The Chatelaine
by Rachbal
Summary: A new queen rules, but for the little, ugly princess nothing has changed in her life of alternating invisibility and humiliation. That is until a distant relative from Earth comes for a visit and helps Levana escape the life of despair to one seemingly ideal. However, the Chatelaine has a secret, a terrible family curse that could destroy her and Levana may be her only hope.
1. Prologue

Monogamy. Faithfulness. True love. She did not think she had ever witnessed it, not beside the fairy tales she'd been told as a child and the fanciful dramas sometimes acted out for the court's entertainment. But to be so cherished—what a dream that must be. To have a man look upon you with such adoration. To feel the press of ﬁngers on your back, a silent message to all who saw that you are his and he—he must be yours . . .

When a woman with gray antlers on her head saw the tears beginning to glisten in Levana's eyes, she nodded understandingly and handed her a crisp gray handkerchief.

Of course she hadn't understood, but someone did. Unseen in plain sight, watching without eyes, she studied the princess, hearing her thoughts and tasting her essence. _Yes, this one needs..._

 _Review Please!_


	2. Chapter 1

**First Meet**

"Oh, buck up child!" Snapped a voice that brought Levana out of her reverie. She dropped the handkerchief as the woman before her spoke, ending her admonishment by a single rap on the tile with her cane. "It's all very well if you are publicly somber at the death of your parents, such is your duty. However, tears as yours are not fitting for a princess, confine them to private if you please!"

Still stunned from the woman's boldness, Levana paused to take her in. She was old, that was obvious from her white hair and wrinkled skin. She was old fashioned, wearing a gown that stretched from the top of her neck to the floor. Though severely cut, somewhat bulky, and out of style, it was made from some material seemingly both dull and shiny, as well as grey. She was rich, gold jewelry and several large gemstones adorned her neck, waist, wrists, and large hat. She was ridiculously proud, haughtiness reeking from every inch of her ramrod straight posture, her head held high and back as she looked down her nose at Levana. Hard not to, she was tall.

"Now your sister over there has the right idea." The old woman motioned to Channary, tittering over the joke of a handsome young man. "Just enough melancholy to display her grief, but willing to be consoled by her subjects. Most excellent, she could teach you a thing or two." Levana's anger rose, shaking off her stupor. This hag had the gull to assume that Channary, the fool, could teach Levana anything useful... _How dare she..._

"Excuse me, my lady." Whispered one of two short men, bodyguards of some sort, standing just behind the old woman. Levana, focused on the woman, hadn't noticed them. Their outfits, made of similar material, were cut along more practical and masculine lines. Each wore a plain helm of metal encompassing their entire heads, giving them a robotic appearance with the glowing blue sensor orbs. "We're holding up the line."

"Don't interrupt me, Cedic," the woman snapped back with a withering glare. "Can't you see I am talking to the princess!" The guard stepped back into place quickly, just catching himself from making a placating gesture. The old woman turned back to Levana, again looking down her nose with her imperious, off-black eyes. "My condolences."

She turned away and strutted off to Channary. Levana watched as the old woman rigidly curtsied to her older sister and began to speak with her. Not with insults, no, but with flattery, and Channary, the fool she was, ate it up.

The shock of their encounter past, anger filled Levana. She had been criticized by some nobody in front of everybody! It may have been bad form, especially at a funeral, but Levana was so mad at all she could think of in that moment was revenge. She lashed out with her _Gift_ as the woman said her goodbyes to Channary, intending to force the offender to throw herself to the floor and bash her head in with her own cane. Then something happened that Levana never could have imagined while so incensed, _nothing._

Nothing happened. The old crone just kept walking, as straight and haughty as ever, followed by her two guards. Shaking off her disbelief, Levana tried again, _harder_.

The crone cried out as she fell to the floor. The cry was cutoff as her guards tripped on her fallen form and landed on top. Several moments passed as the mass of limbs untangled itself, the whole time peals of Channary's laughter filled the hall followed by many others.

"Off me, off me!" The old woman wailed. Finally the guards stood. "Well don't just stand there, you imbeciles! Help me up!" The two men hoisted her up. "Ooph! Not so fast! Have you no care for my old bones! And don't crowd me. Where is my cane?"

One of her guards offered up the stick, which she snatched without so much as a thank you. Turning to Channary, who was still laughing, the crone gave a stiff nod. "Forgive me for the disturbance, Your Highness, but it appears that my hired help both have two left feet. With your permission, I will take my leave."

Channary assented and waved the old woman off, still giggling. With a limp, the crone made her way to the entrance. Just before exiting she stopped, turning to glance over the crowd. Then her gaze then fell upon Levana, she lifted an eyebrow and the corner of her mouth on the same side rose slightly. It was a quizzled yet amused expression, as if to say, _was all that really necessary?_ With a tilt of the head, she broke eye contact with Levana and left the great hall.

That left Levana pondering as the neglected line recaptured her attention. The old woman had been unaffected by her first attack, and though the second succeeded, the woman seemed amused, not frightened.

 _A shell..._ she thought but quickly dismissed the idea. Even if they could make it through the extra security, no shell would be stupid enough to come here, not after what happened. Besides, she did fall under Levana's glamour. But why didn't her first attempt work?

 _Her guards_... she thought. _Masks, they wore masks..._ that would make them Belters, from the expanse of insignificant pebbles between Mars and Jupiter. There had been rumors that on occasion a belter could be found resistant to the Lunar Gift. Levana had always supposed them to be idle speculation, that Belters really were part ape and so could shrug off glamour. Idle speculation that was confirmed before her eyes, it would seem. Was the old woman also a Belter? She hadn't been wearing a mask.

Levana's musing soon passed. Channary made good on her promise to shirk her duty, forcing Levana to give the funeral speech and deal with final details. However, for an hour she had ceased to think about Evret, Solstice, and all they represented. Ceased to pine.


	3. Chapter 2

**Crashed Wedding**

The chapel doors burst open before the officiant had finished tying the two ribbons. Levana turned, furious at the interruption of her wedding. However, her glare faded as she saw just who was barging in. Flanked by guards and wearing a scowl of her own, Channary marched in. "Levana get down here now!"

Fear gripped her. Channary was angry, furious even and Levana knew when she was like this reasoning with her sister was almost impossible. She looked at Evret, hoping to see a protective resolve, the love she knew he must have her rallying his will to never let them be torn apart. Instead she saw only her own fear mirrored on his face. This would be a battle that she would have to lead. She reached out for Evret's hand hoping that his fingers entwined with hers would grant her strength. She barely registered Evert's resistance to her taking his hand as Channary reached the foot of the altar.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Channary demanded, grabbing Levana's arm and tried to tear her away from Evret. Levana held on to Evert's hand with all her might and Channary's yank only succeeded in painfully twisting her shoulder.

"I am marrying Evret, that is what I am doing." Levana answered. She had to put her foot down now if she was ever going to marry Evret.

"See," sneered the guttural voice that Levana had come to hate over the last two months. The voice belong to a demoness, a supposed distant Blackburn relative from Earth. The claim for coming was to pay her respects to her long separated family and ease their grief. An absurd story, but one that seemed to pass muster, for the thaumaturges could find no flaw. Making herself indispensable to the queen, she became Channary's favorite 'aunt,' and took great pleasure in hounding Levana. In fact she always seemed to be where Levana didn't wanted her to be, often encountering each other at odd times.

Sure enough, the old crone stepped out from behind Channary, like an obedient dog. "It is as I told you, Your Majesty."

"Yes, thank you Aunt Hesti." Channary glanced at the older woman, almost with approval. She then turned back to Levana. "You idiot, you can't marry him! He's a guard!"

"I love him and I am marrying him right now!" Levana answered.

"Then I will have him executed." Channary motioned the other guards forward and they stepped forward menacingly. Levana stepped in front of Evret, protecting him.

"No, stop!" She cried. Turning to Channary she snarled. "Why do you even care?"

"Why?!" Channary growled furiously. "Do you know how many of the families I have promised your hand to, and Father before that? We need their support. We want them to feel invested in us as rulers, and for that we need to make alliances. That's how it works, Levana. That is your _only_ role as a part of this family, and I will not have you ruining it. I don't care if you love him, bed him if you want, but we don't marry _guards_."

"It's too late. I chose him and I won't change. Even if you did kill him, I would never marry to please you. I would rather die."

"That, too, can be arranged, baby sister."

"Yes, and a waste it would be, Your Majesty." The Chatelaine cut in before Levana could retort. "It is clear that your parents let your sister have too much freedom, letting her run loose instead of preparing her for her lot in life."

Channary nodded, agreeing with their distant cousin. "You're right, Aunt Hesti. My parents did let her run loose much too often."

"It is like I have been telling you, Levana needs constant supervision." The old woman continued ranting. "Why if she were my sister I would show who was the Sovereign, none of this nuptial nonsense with the palace rabble! Nothing but private tuition literature, history, deportment, elocution..." she seemed to fall into her usual rhetoric, one Channary loved to listen to with praise, but would mock in private. However the crone recovered as if sensing that Channary had no patience for such a discourse now.

"No, Your Majesty, I would keep her under tight control." Their cousin finished.

"You're absolutely right Aunt Hesti" The Queen, said and Levana could see the mad wheels in Channary's spinning.

"Of course I am!" The crone concurred with her insufferable pride.

"Levana does need constant supervision."

"Constant."

"Someone to watch over her, to keep her out of trouble."

"At every moment."

"And you are just the nanny to do it!" Channary proclaimed proudly.

Silence filled in the chapel as the Chatelaine, for the first time since Levana had known her, seemed speechless. "Me, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, you." Channary affirmed.

"But, Your Majesty I couldn't possibly..." The old woman started, but Channary interrupted her.

"You told me you came here to find a companion in my court to take back to Earth." That was true, the Chatelaine always made a point to remind everyone that she was a lonely, old woman and the reason came to Luna, other than to attend the funeral, was to find a 'suitable' companion in the court of her long lost cousins. Yet every option had been turned down for one reason or another and end with the Chatelaine lamenting that Channary was the ideal choice, but unavailable since she was queen.

"True yes, but I not so very young and Levana is...well..." She stuttered.

"A princess," Channary filled in. "Much better than any simple courtier. She's available and is in need of your stern character to set her straight. It's perfect." She straighten, squaring her shoulders with a smile. "And besides, I am Queen, you have to accept."

For a brief moment, the crone hesitated. Then, thinking better of it, accepted with a stiff curtsey and smile. "You are wise, Majesty. The child does need my particular...discipline, and once properly groomed will make a superior companion."

Levana couldn't believe what she was hearing. To be sent away from her Evret, to Earth in the claws of a terrible shrew like the Chatelaine. "No," she cried defiantly, if a bit desperately. "No, I won't go!" She clung to Evret, waiting for him to rally to their love's defense, to say something. He stood, silent. "Evret..." she pleaded, "say something!"

He looked at her, his eyes fill with sadness and more than a touch of relief. "What I can I say Levana, she is the Queen."

Levana almost pushed him away out of shock. This couldn't be happening, not when she was so close, close to happiness, true happiness...So she gripped him harder. "No!" She repeated. "I won't go anywhere without Evret! you can't make me!" As Levana said the words, somewhere in her anguish she realized her folly.

Channary smile her that knowing, smug smile. "Oh, you think so baby sister?" Channary rarely used her glamour like this on Levana, she rarely needed to after a lifetime of oppressive treatment. That made it all the more terrifying as Levana lost control of her limbs and let Evret go. It was slow, Levana fought to keep her fingers entwined with Evret's and imagined for a moment that Evret was doing the same, but he was not. He allowed her fingers to slip away under Channary's control and stepped back as Levana was forced to her knees.

The only consolation was that Channary began to sweat with concentration, she had always been stronger, but not by much. Even as Levana struggled with all her might to break free and scramble to her love's feet, the Chatelaine steadied the Queen. "You...are...going...to...Earth!" Channary hissed with effort.

"I...won't!" Levana answered, but it was all she could do. Maybe she could out last Channary, after all she was the more skilled having practiced constantly. Maybe Channary would slip out of exhaustion and they could make a run for, just Evret and her. She hardly felt one of the guards coming from behind and inject a sedative into her neck.

Levana collapsed on the floor of the chapel and Channary shuddered with relief. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Channary kicked her sister's unconscious form on the ground. "Ungrateful girl!" She growled.

"Of course, Your Majesty," the Chatelaine agreed. "However she did raise an excellent point." Channary shot her a glare.

"What do you mean?!"

"Guards," the old woman explained. "She will need guards. Four at least. While I do trust my own men, a Lunar Princess should be protected by Lunar Guards, don't you agree?"

Channary thought, or at least tried to think. Rational, orderly thought never came easily to the spontaneous and vapid Queen. Now, she was exhausted after her short bout with her sister and just wanted to return to her rooms. "Yes, I guess so."

"Of course, it can't be any guards you know, " the Chatelaine went on. "Earth is different than Luna and not in a good way you understand. Candidates will need to meet certain requirements for such a long assignments. Certain provisions taken...well we can discuss it the way back to the palace. It shouldn't take you more than...three or four hours to decide."

Channary allowed herself a soft groan. _Three hours!_ She was in no mood spend that much time of something so minor as her wayward sister's babysitters. Not when she want to go to sleep. Besides, the Chatelaine always knew what she was talking about. She could talk endlessly about virtually any subject. "Just choose them yourself. You already know what you need."

"Really?" The old woman asked.

Channary was growing impatient and repeated her decision. "Yes, yes whatever you need."

"Her Majesty is wise." The Chatelaine accepted and led the Queen out of the Chapel by her arm. "I will see to the arrangements. Fear not my Queen, your sister is in good hands."

Channary nodded wearily and so just missed the small smile of smug satisfaction that appeared on the old woman's face, then vanished just was quickly.


	4. Chapter 3

**Exile and a Bizarre Experience**

Levana wandered in a haze, a gloom of slumber without dreams and without rest. Suddenly an acrid smell burned her nose and she stirred with a start. The world around her was blurred but began to clear. She shook off the last vestiges of sleep to see the Chatelaine standing before her, smelling salt vile in her hand. Levana jerked back into her seat in surprise, only feel constrained by the comfortable padding of her chair.

"Hello Levana," the Chatelaine greeted in a voice softer than her usual gritty tone. She backed up a few step to sit down in her own chair. She leaned back and looked Levana in the eye with calm expression. "Welcome back. Do you remember what happened?"

 _What did happen?_ Levana asked herself as she tried to remember. The memories came back slowly for a moment, fuzzy and dreamlike. A chapel, an alter, Evret...EVRET! The wedding, her sister, their bout and the where she was going to go without Evret! It all came back. "You!" She jumped up and snapped. "You, it was you! You found out and told her! You _ruined_ everything!"

The old woman didn't deny anything, simply sat with that infuriatingly amused half smile. "Yes," she replied, "and no."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Levana demanded. She wished she could just reach out with her gift and make this woman throttle herself against the wall. If only it was that easy. As she had done a dozen times before, she reached out and felt only the muffled , muddled energy that, as usual, slipped through her mental fingers as she tightened her grasp. Only that one time at the funeral was she ever successful, and now she was certain that it had all been a ruse, but why?

"It means that you had a hand in your own ruination, and that the ruin of one's life is often the beginning of something...greater." Her voice was soft, even comforting, so different to the shrew she had dealt with before.

Levana, looked around, realizing for the first time that she was not back at the palace where she expected be after her argument with Channary. She didn't recognize any of the furniture or decor in the room, but there was something familiar about the layout of the chairs and windows in the room. Then she notice the light humming beneath her feet. "We're on a ship!" She said with a start.

"Very good Levana," the old woman affirmed as Levana rushed to one of the sealed windows. Her fingers fumbled nervously with the window controls, but she managed to open them. Her heart sank. There, framed in the window, she saw the grey, pock-marked curvature of her home. It was getting smaller, that meant she was getting further away from Evret.

Levana whirled around the face the Chatelaine. "Take me back!" She didn't know if it sounded like and order or a plea, she didn't care. All she wanted was to be in his arms again, a dream growing dimmer as the distance between them grew.

"No." The old woman replied firmly.

Panic gripped Levana. For a moment she didn't know want to do. Then she forced a furious calm over herself and straightened to her full height. "Take me back!" She order, letting her low tone drip with unpleasant possibilities. The Chatelaine's amused, unworried expression was infuriating. "Take me back," she repeated, growling now, "or I'll..."

"Or you'll...what?" The Chatelaine asked, smile spreading across her face. "What are you going to do, Levana?"

They stared at each other, in near silence. Threats of various kinds and severities passed through Levana's mind, but none seemed adequate in the face the Chatelaine's unperturbed anticipation. This was a losing battle, like it always was with Channary. Except this women seemed to have patience that exceeded her own. Once again, she reached out for those muddled energies, if only she could control them like everyone else, she could make this evil, sadistic hag rue the day. Once again the Chatelaine's energies slipped free, and Levana slumped down on a seat opposite the old woman.

"There now," the old woman cooed as if addressing a little child exhausted from a tantrum. "Feeling better?"

"What are you going to do with me?" Levana moaned.

"Nothing more or less than what I promised your sister." The Chatelaine answered. "Though, I don't think it will be what she expects."

Before Levana could ask her what she meant, the comm. beeped. The Chatelaine pushed a button on her armrest. "Yes Captain?" She inquired.

"My lady," the voice of the rumbled over the intercom. "We are exiting out of Lunar territorial space. You said you wanted to know."

"Yes I did captain, thank you." The old woman said. "You may continue at best possible speed to our rendezvous with the _Tobi Maru_." She turned the intercom off and stood up with a grunt. "Ah, finally I can take off this ridicules outfit!"

She began by tearing her hat from her head and tossing it to the seat next to Levana. It landed with a thud, startling Levana. She picked up the hat and was surprised. It was heavy, _really heavy._ She looked up as the Chatelaine undid the buttons of her long sleeve blouse and skirt. They fell to the floor, each with a thud of their own. Underneath, the old woman was wearing some kind of black, one piece undergarment, reminiscent of Earthen polar wet suits from old documentaries. That is except for a skeletal frame that was attached to the Chatelaine's body and closely mimicked the movements of her limbs. There was a series of clicking and the exo-skeleton popped off, clattering to the floor. At last the Chatelaine reached for her face and pulled it off, showing...her face. A less sour, petulant, and more amiable face. The mask in hand shimmered and then faded as the holographic imagers deactivated.

"Oh," she breathed a sigh of relief, facing Levana. "That's much better, you have no idea how stifling that outfit could be!"

Levana didn't hear her. She barely noticed any of the undressing process after the hat. The only change she really saw was the old woman's bio-electrical energy. No longer muted or muddled, it cascaded in an unseen brilliance that made Levana pause, then shiver in unrestrained glee. For months this hag had brought her nothing but misery, adding to the humiliation that she already received from Channary. She didn't know how the Chatelaine had muffled her energy from everyone, but she was a fool to abandon her defense. A minor probe confirmed that the old woman was truly vulnerable. So Levana attacked, with all the rage she could muster at this pitiful old fool.

Then something...bizarre...happened.

She was in two places at once. She was young and she was old. She wore a hastily chosen, rumpled wedding outfit and a formfitting, black jumpsuit. She was a princess with the face of a seamstress and a crone of a chatelaine. So strange the feeling was, so incomprehensible this dual existence, that Levana could only stare at herself for an eternity, letting innumerable thoughts and questions pass through her without notice.

Then, out of curiosity, she stretched her hand to touch the face of the beautiful woman and the crone. The youthful, smooth hand and aged, wrinkled one passed by each other. She touched her cheek, and her cheek, feeling the warmth of hands and cheeks together. Was it real? Could it be a dream or..."

She screamed! Whether it was young or old, both, one, or neither, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was in pain, she was terrified, alone yet smothered in the throng of a crowd. She was on fire, burning, yet she was also freezing, turning to ice. She being stabbed, ripped apart, broken then crushed. She wanted to run and couldn't, yet she found herself leaving when she wanted to stay. She was feeling them all, every terrible, gut-wrenching emotion, sensation, and idea.

She begged for it for it to stop, prayed for it to stop. Just when she despaired that it never would, finally it did.

"Levana..." A smooth voice, calm and kind called out. "Levana, wake up."

She opened her eyes. After what she had just been through dim light and muted sounds seemed to deafen her. It took a moment to understand her surroundings. She was in small room, in a bed. To her left, a woman sat, holding her hand; the Chatelaine. She smiled, squeezing Levana's hand. Levana tried to speak but found throat raw and voice weak and raspy.

"Shhh," said the Chatelaine. "Don't speak. Here," she let go of Levana's hand and picked up a glass of water. Turning back, she held the cup within reach of Levana's lips with one hand and with the other lift Levana's head. "Drink this. Slowly now."

The cool liquid flowed into her mouth and calmed the scratchiness in the throat. Once she had finished the first glass, the Chatelaine gave her another and she drank. In a moment she left better.

"What," she tried to ask, but her voice faltered. She cleared her throat. "What happened?"

The Chatelaine took in a breath and turned away to place the glass cup on the small tray. "A Thought Mine."

"Wh-what?" Levana asked, not understanding.

"A _Thought Mine_." The Chatelaine repeated. "That is a psychic vortex comprised of negative emotions such as pain, fear, shame, etc.; twisted in a thin cocoon of higher, objective thought. When you invaded my mind you interrupted my higher brain functions and so unleashed the mine, overwhelming your mind and forcing you out."

She leaned back in her chair. "A small one I grant you, so you have been in a coma for only three days. After all, I didn't want to kill you."

Levana didn't quite understand. She knew the words that were being spoken, but her mind wouldn't focus well enough to put the Chatelaine concept together. She moaned and blinked trying to chase away the bitter sludge in her brain.

"Don't worry," the Chatelaine said with a smile, patting Levana's hand. "Time enough for explanations and a discussion on your future later after you've recovered. " She stood out of her chair and leaned over Levana. Levana felt the warm, soft lips brush against her forehead. "Rest now and I'll bring you something to eat a little later."

She placed a gentle hand on Levana's forehead and feeling of peace and sleep led the princess into slumber.


	5. Chapter 4

**Some Explanations and a New Face**

It took another four days before the Chatelaine considered Levana recovered enough to discuss her future. They sat, wearing loose robes, in viewing room of their private suite onboard McKinley Station, chairs place so that they could look at outside and at each other with a small table of refreshments to share. The view out of the wall-sized window was breath taking, giving a view of Earth on the station's high polar orbit.

They had arrived at the station the day before, disembarking from the _Tobi Maru_ freighter and had taken rooms in the station's hotel. When Levana asked about the ship, the first ship they were on, the Chatelaine simply said that the captain, a belter from the Greek camp Trojans, had gone his way.

Levana, peaceful sleep the last couple of days aside, had been disturbed by the old woman's comments when she had first awoken. She wanted to know more, but was afraid to broach the subject, fearing what she might learn as well as the wrath of a clearly powerful and dangerous mind witch. She certainly hadn't been tempted to try manipulating the old woman's bio-electricity, recoiling when she sensed herself getting too close.

Then there was the fact that, in a coma, she would be unable to keep up her glamour. The Chatelaine had seen everything.

The Chatelaine, on the other hand, hand no such doubts. She made no mention of scars and disfigurements, instead went into a brief explanation on the subject, repeating what she had said before with a little more detail. She seemed to know Levana's questions before they were asked.

While she refused to divulge the specifics on the technique, Levana nevertheless marveled at the sheer amount of discipline such an ability would require. She never thought the Lunar Gift could be used in such a way. For it was clear that the Chatelaine did indeed possess some form of Glamour, contrary to her statements to the Lunar Court.

That train of thought, of course led to how she had resisted Levana's manipulations. The Chatelaine answered by presenting the very hat that she had discarded on the day they left Luna. As Levana held it, she remarked again how heavy it was, as if it was made of gold.

The Chatelaine chuckled. "Worse," she said. "It is made of an Osmium-Platinum alloy, with an inner layer of pyrolytic carbon fibers." Levana didn't comprehend hardly any of it so the Chatelaine explained further. Osmium is the densest naturally occurring element in the universe. This dense, paramagnetic metal combined with the diamagnetic pyrolytic carbon fibers provided the Chatelaine complete protection from bio-electrical manipulation. The combination also masked this result by reflecting bio-electricity in a disrupting pattern that gave the appearance of having bio-electrical signature. The whole outfit was absurdly heavy, necessitating the use of an exo-skeleton to support the weight. It was also very expensive, so much that the Osmium had been merely barrowed through a favor owed and the fabric would be used for its original purpose, high danger radiation suits. Levana marveled at it all, but at end the Chatelaine tired of the subject and chose to close the matter with a warning.

"Foolishness is a great luxury Levana, one you can ill afford." Her face and tone took on a stone sternness, the kind you didn't test. "Don't do it again."

Her face softened and she lowered her eyes to her cup of tea. She took a sip and said. "Now let us discuss your future shall we?"

Levana hid her displeasure by popping a bit sized sandwich into her mouth, savoring its meaty flavor. She didn't want to talk about what the Chatelaine had planned, she feared that such a future would exclude Evret. She wasn't ready to face such a future.

The Chatelaine waited a moment before going on, as if waiting for Levana's mind to quite. "Channary has given me a wide range of authority in your upbringing. As it stands, I will take you to my estate in Andorra, where you will live as a guest in my home. You will have free run of the grounds, but may not leave them without my permission. You will have a modest allowance sufficient to fulfill your desires, within reason of course," she took another sip of her tea. "And you will need a new name..."

Levana looked at her in bewilderment. _A new name? What could she mean by that?_

"I mean of course," the Chatelaine continued, "that as Princess Levana Blackburn of Luna will inevitably lead to prejudice and isolation. I intend for you to interact with people so you will need a new identity."

She inserted a data chip into the room's viewer interface. Files and images appeared on the large window, obscuring the view of Earth. "You are now Satel Sarah Balmwhite, my seventh cousin thrice removed from Mars. You were orphaned by a recent, tragic incident involving your parents. I, as your closest living relative, have been managing your affairs and invited you to live with me. Details are in the files, I expect you to commit them to memory. Also, if you feel so inclined, you may mention an older sister, but please keep particulars to a minimum. After all," the Chatelaine winked, "she is an embarrassment to our family."

Levana looked at the old woman, no one had ever spoken about Channary like that, and it made Levana, in spite of herself...like the Chatelaine for a moment. She turned to the window and gazed at the information, it would take her days to learn everything.

"One more thing," the Chatelaine said. "I am afraid that glamour you're wear will not do."

Levana turned to glare at the old woman. "This is my face." She declared.

"No," the Chatelaine retorted, "that is the face of a dead seamstress. I'll grant that you perfected it, Satel." The old woman's use of the fake name caught Levana off guard. "But that still doesn't make it yours."

"My name is Levana." Levana stated firmly.

"Of course it is," the Chatelaine agreed, "I never said it wasn't."

"You called me Satel." Levana pointed out irritably.

"Yes, because it is the name I gave you and the one you will use while you are with me." She sipped her tea. She set the cup down and looked Levana in the eye. "Just because you have a new name doesn't mean you lose the old one. Who you were will always be who you are, just not all you are. You are Levana the Princess of Luna, but that part of you must be set aside for now if you are to discover another part of yourself, Satel the common girl."

Levana was taken aback at the Chatelaine's declaration. "I am not common, I am..."

"A princess," the Chatelaine interrupted. "I know. Yet you are wearing the face of a base born woman, you laid with and tried to marry her base born husband. You are jealous of this Solstice, of everything she had. Seeing it all, one would think you wanted to be common."

"Well I don't!" Levana declared. "I am a princess and quite like it."

"Hmmm." A thoughtful expression took the Chatelaine's face. "You certainly want that statement to be true, but it isn't. Will you tell me why?"

Levana narrowed her eyes. "There is nothing to tell."

"Ah, but there is!" The old woman laughed. "Like imagining a man feels for you what you feel for him!"

"Evret loves me," she cried. "I know he does!"

"Undoubtedly!" The old woman agreed heartily. "We have established common ground. He does love, but how child? How does he love you? With brotherly affection for a friend or duty to a princess?"

"Evret loves me," she cried, "as a woman!"

"Really, meu agredolç? And whose name does whisper in your ear when you are together?"

Levana gasped. "How did you know about that?!"

"I know a great deal, Satel..."

"Stop calling me that! I want to go back to Luna now!" Levana commanded.

"Then I should warn you that if you go back to Luna, you will never see Evret again. If, however, you come with me and do as I say, then you may see him when I deem you ready."

"This is blackmail!" The princess screeched.

"Yes it is, but in face of your obsession, I find it necessary to limit your options. The question is which will you choose?" A thought crossed Levana, a temptation of fear and pride. Her body tensed with anticipation and dread. The Chatelaine raised her eyebrow as if reading her mind. "Remember the Thought Mine."

The tension released instantly from her body as Levana gave. "Fine, I'll do what you'll say."

"Excellent," the Chatelaine clapped. "And this shall be your new face."

She waved her hand and several of the images on the screen expanded. Levana turned to see the images and instantly grimaced. Closing her eyes to the offending pictures she turned back to glare at the Chatelaine.

"You want me to look like Channary!" She growled. The Chatelaine smiled her infuriating smile.

"No," she responded, "look more closely."

She gestured back to the screen. Levana sighed, swallowed the bile working its way up her throat and looked again. The face did look like Channary's, but there were...differences. More than that, it seemed...familiar. Levana rose out of her seat to get closer, then it hit her.

"Wait a minute," she gasped. "Is that..." She couldn't finish the sentence, though she knew it was certain, she had avoided thinking about it since recovering. Terror gripped her as her hand went to the right side of her face and she turned away from both the screen and the Chatelaine. It was as if to doing so could forbid the what was coming.

"Yes," the old woman confirmed. "It is _your face_ , the one you were _meant_ to have. I had it reconstructed from the left side of your face while you were sleeping. To be honest, I may have taken a couple of...creative liberties, but then again you do that often enough."

Levana began to whimper, her breath became rapid and shallow. Her knees were weak, at any moment she would fall down into uncontrollable weeping. _She had seen!_ She lamented in her mind again and again. _By the stars,_ _she had seen!_

"Levana," and hand gently squeezed her right shoulder. "I knew about your scars long before the coma." Then with surprising strength the Chatelaine gripped her other shoulder and turned Levana to face her. She lifted Levana's lowered chin up and looked into her eyes. "And you know what? I don't care. But you do, and so this face is for you. Take it as my gift to you."

Levana could not hold back the tears, they came, rushing from her eyes, as she cried out in the agony of discovery. All her pride, her shame, weld up from beneath and threatened to drown her. The loss of face.

She didn't notice her knees give way, nor did she feel the Chatelaine grab hold with her arms and slowed her descent to the floor. Neither did she comprehend that the old woman continued to embrace her, crying with her, caressed her forehead with a kiss, and stroking her hair. They talked no more that day.

 _(If you want more please review, I don't know how much or little you enjoy it unless you say something!)_


	6. Chapter 5

**The Chateau**

A week passed onboard the station. Levana spent that time getting a series of immunizing injections and learning her new past. It was a dull, ordinary life to be sure. The girl, "Satel" had lived in a remote farming community on Mars, one of hundreds across the planet, for most of her life, never going anywhere or meeting anyone consequence. The only exciting thing that had happened in this false history was the raid by Pallasite marauders that slew most of the residents. (Several actual raids had taken place over the last few years and many settlements didn't keep complete records, so it was a plausible story).

By some miracle, she had been away visiting a older sister in Utopia City. With her home gone she had stayed with her less than doting sister. That was until their distant cousin, the Chatelaine, had learned of her situation and offered to take her to live on Earth. Thus she was now flying over the Mediterranean Sea onboard a small private jet that the Chatelaine had chartered for their journey to the estate in Andorra.

Andorra. Levana hadn't paid any attention to it, or anything to do with the Chatelaine when she had arrived on Luna. Now she was curious about the place she would be living. What was this small province of the European Federation like?

She used her seat's netscreen to look up the information, continuing her inquiries from the station. First thing she had learned was that Andorra wasn't part of the European Federation, at least not technically. It was a semi-independent micro state (one of several), an officially sovereign principality (without an actual prince) that in reality had little power to maintain its autonomy. Only European tradition had allowed its continued existence, this and the fact that a lot of banking went on inside the little country.

It was also a large tourist spot. Essentially comprised of mountains, millions come year round to ski, hike, and shop. The largest and most prestigious hotels, call The Chateaus, of course were owned by the Chatelaine. They were all around the world, but the flagship hotel was just northwest of the capital, Andorra la Vella.

Levana skimmed from article to article gleaning enough to understand that much before turning her attention to the Chatelaine herself. The old woman had thousands of hits on the net. At first Levana was surprised with the positive nature of most hits; philanthropies, charities, foundations, and disaster relief work. According to the net, the woman was a chronic do-gooder, always ready to aid a worthy cause, though she had been rather quiet for the last decade.

There was even an odd nick name for her, Crow Queen. What it meant Levana didn't know, by that time she had worn through her patience for research.

This wasn't the woman Levana encountered on Luna. If she needed any evidence to be sure that the woman that had participated in Channary's games of humiliation was a facade beyond the firm yet kind treatment she had received since leaving Artemisia, here it was.

The question now was why hadn't the court seen through this charade. Channary was a fool, so of course she would be taken in by the Chatelaine's facade. But some of court, especially the thaumaturges, were competent, smart. Why had they been taken in as well? Perhaps the court wasn't as perceptive as she thought?

Anyway, she decided to push the thoughts aside to look out the window. Below her was the vast Mediterranean Sea. So much water! So blue, so many shades of blue and some green! Then she saw the approaching shore and the mountains behind. Tans and browns filled the window, along with new shades of green, darker and fuller than the pastels of the sea. Then green gave way to white as they rose into the top of the mountains.

 _Snow!_ She had seen images of it all her life, now it was only 500 meters below her. _It was spring,_ she thought. Some snow would linger until summer, then the season would change again, to fall then to winter once more. A change humans couldn't control, never did despite millennia of advances. It was...different from Luna, where there were no seasons, where control was everywhere. _So much less...control. No wonder the Earthens were so unruly, their world was wild!_

"Wild, yes." The Chatelaine agreed. Levana turned from the window, she hadn't known she was commenting out loud. The Chatelaine was sitting in the seat on the opposite side of the cabin looking of her own window. "But also vibrant, filled with possibilities, always changing. You could walk these mountains for a century and still not know what might be over the next rise." She chuckled. "I should know, I have done just that."

Levana smiled at the joke, then quickly frowned. She was still _very, very angry_ with the Chatelaine for ruining her wedding, taking her from Evret, but it was hard not to like her. After all, Levana had received more kind treatment from her in the last week than she had received from the entire court during her whole life. And they shared the same opinions on Channary, didn't care for her at all.

She had taken Evret away, even blackmailed her, but she did say that Levana would see Evret again. Levana would only have to do as the old lady asked. Perhaps she wasn't the harpy Levana had been led to believe on Luna. Just an overbearing, sticky aunt who meddled in affairs in which she had no business. _On second thought_ , Levana thought, _she not so easy to like either._

"Look," the Chatelaine said, taking the seat next to Levana and pointing out the window at a rise fast approaching. They passed over it and in the valley beneath was a city. Levana pressed her nose to the window trying to get a better look. "Andorra la Vella."

It was a small city, but it seemed larger as it filled the valley. In that way it reminded her of Artemisia, but there the similarities ended. This city was far older than the Lunar capital, and it wasn't set up in the organized pattern. Unlike the round cities of Luna, Andorra la Vella stretched along a river, streets angling away from the water way, often without regular structure. Its buildings were largely new, but she saw some old structures carefully, preserved landmarks. And people filled the streets, like columns of ants in the cracks of dry earth.

With a sharp turn that caught Levana off guard, the jet twisted away from the city taking a northwest course. Another mountain, another valley, this time Levana spotted not a city but a sprawling resort, Chateau de Capital. The Chatelaine's flagship hotel and jewel of her family's business. But she didn't look at it long, for on a peak beyond the next mountain was their destination.

The Chatelaine's home. _The Chateau_. Unlike the modern edifices in the valley below, this was a genuine chateau. Old and built of stone, it almost looked like a castle from fairy tales she heard as a child. Its grey white walls were scored with darker shades of grey from moisture stains and dormant moss. Creeping plants covered the south and parts of east and west walls Levana saw as their jet circled above. It had organized gardens surrounding it on three sides at some length, the one side lacking was the south and it overlooked an increasingly steep slope that fell to a blue lake 300 meters below in the valley. It was green, covered in vegetation. Due to this, much of the detail was hard to see but the net images helped Levana fill in the gaps.

It was only half the size of the Lunar Royal Palace and a mere fraction of the resort in the next valley, yet displayed as much majesty as her home on the moon, if of a more rugged and rustic sort. Levana was...impressed.

She spotted the landing pad. Just outside the safety border stood what Levana could only assume was the Chateau's staff, a mere ten persons. The jet shuttle gave one final turn and then allowed the pad's magnets the take hold and settle the craft gently on the ground.

"Well, let's get out so I can introduce you to everyone." The old woman said as she stood up and turned toward the door. Levana stood up and followed her. The Chatelaine opened the door, then stopped and turned to Levana. "Your glamour Satel."

Levana sighed with a sight teeth grind at the end. This was still a point of contention between them, but the Chatelaine had allowed Levana to keep her glamour of Solstice while they were alone together. For everyone else, it would the glamour of her own, unscarred face. Levana had been forced to practice this glamour for two hours every day to make sure she got it right. It wasn't that hard, after all it looked a great deal like Channary's face, with finer features. Now, grudgingly, she pulled down the image of Solstice and put up her own face. The Chatelaine nodded her approval and led them out.

The cold air sliced through her. She never felt cold like this before, the artificial environment of the domes was carefully maintained. Though it was spring, high in these mountains the air turned chill in the evening. She gasped and shivered, almost losing control, however the practice allowed her to maintain the glamour. Nothing could be said about crushing herself with her own arms and teeth chattering.

One of the staff met them outside the jet and took their hands to aid them down the step ramp. He was a shrewd looking older man, black hair graying at his temples and lines beginning to mark his face, wearing a conservative suit. He smiled warmly at the Chatelaine as he took her hand, but she thought his smile turned a little hard with suspicion as he took her hand to lead her down the ramp.

"Satel, this is Senor Alexandré Salas, my majordomo." The Chatelaine said and gestured to the man and he bowed stiffly. She then gestured to Levana. "André, this is Satel Sarah Balmwhite, my cousin from Mars."

"An honor miss." He greeted with a small nod and Levana returned the nod.

"Yes, Mr. Salas." She replied. There was the shortest of awkward pauses before the Chatelaine continued.

"Well, let's introduce you to the rest of the staff, shall we?" She took the lead to the line of people just off the landing pad. There was a flash of black that whiz by Levana's head, accompanied by a flapping sound. Levana flinched away, almost losing her balance with the unexpected move. She heard a cawing and looked up at the Chatelaine, amazed. There on the Chatelaine's shoulder perched a large crow. Its eyes were closed in pleasure as the old woman stroked its head. With she pulled her hand back, the crow tried to grabbed her ear with its beak. The Chatelaine batted the beak away at first, then grabbed it and shook the bird's head gently.

"Pensa, shame on you, scaring our guest." She scolded the crow then let its beak go. It cawed and hopped about until she settled it down with more stroking. "Where is your mate?"

She was answered by distant cawing from another direction. Everyone's attention turned to the top of the Chateau and there perched another crow, larger than the first.

"Memord, come." The large crow leaped from the roof and glided skillfully to the Chatelaine's outstretched arm. She stroked this one too which, like the first closed its eyes and cooed. "You two should be in the aviary."

"I'm sorry Ama, they slipped out and we couldn't catch them in time so we let them alone. It is good you came back when you did." The majordomo commented. "They and were driving the staff loco."

"Yes, I know." The Chatelaine replied. She turned to the crows. "Off with you two." They jumped away in unison and flew up to watch the humans from their perch on the roof. Levana had a strange feeling that they were watching her in particular. The old woman motioned for Levana to join her at the line staff.

Now that Levana saw them up close the first thing she realized was that they were all old. Not decrepit, but wrinkled skin and grey streaked hair. It was unnerving for her to see so much undisguised age. Often people, even servants, would use their glamour to disguise imperfections; a wrinkle, a blemish, a scar, change eye color or freshen skin tone. These people did not, and could not, hide their real appearance. Levana found it...very strange.

"This is Senor and Senora Oliver," The Chatelaine said as she gestured to the couple furthest left in the line once they got close enough. "My butler and housekeeper."

Senor Oliver, took Levana's trembling hand and kissed her knuckles quickly and respectfully and gave her a reserved smile. "Welcome Senorita."

Levana gave him a nod and no sooner finished when she was engulfed in the surprisingly strong arms of his wife. Levana gave out a grunt as her lungs were crushed and then relieved. If the butler's smile was reserved, then the housekeeper's smile blazed with big white teeth.

"Oh querida," the housekeeper began, "don't mind my stiff husband. He thinks showing any emotion demeans his position. Really he is just as excited to have you here as we all are, we haven't had guest since forever. We're so sorry about your family. Now, let me look at you!" The shorter and older woman held her chin and gazed at Levana with such intensity that for a moment she thought the housekeeper had seen through her glamour. Then the housekeeper went on. "Yes, I see the family resemblance, especially the eyes. You have the same beautiful eyes."

Then she pinched Levana's cheek. "And the same hollow cheeks, por cielo! When was the last time you fed this girl Hesti!" She gave a disapproving look at her mistress while Levana batted the offending hand from her cheek.

The Chatelaine shrugged. "Travel food never compared with Sensei Chef's cooking."

"Well, then it is a good thing that la cena is just an hour off." Senora Oliver replied.

"Yes, unfortunately our guest is rather spent from her journey." The Chatelaine said. "She will have to take her dinner in her chambers, then straight to bed."

"Very well, ama." The housekeeper said with a nod. She turned back to Levana and kissed her forehead. "Querida, if you need anything, just ask."

Levana continued her way down the line. The other servants were three maids, one, Madam Renoux, would act was her lady's maid if the occasion called for it. The vaunted chef, two grounds keepers, and a footman that also acted as a valet and chauffeur. Once she finished the introductions, Levana followed the Chatelaine into the Chateau. Two of the maids took their coats in the foyer and the third, Madam Renoux, led them to a suit of rooms. They were fine rooms, with a warm feeling despite the stone walls. Not as highly furnished as her rooms on Luna, but comfortable enough. As Levana looked around she heard the Chatelaine shoo the maid outside.

"These are to be your rooms." The Chatelaine explained as closed the doors leaving them alone together. "I hope you will like them, they use to be mine when I was young."

Levana said nothing though she was intrigued, in spite of herself. However she suspected that the Chatelaine had another reason for shooing out the maid. "You wanted to talk to me alone?" She asked though more statement than question.

"Perceptive, good." The old woman said. She began to skirt the edge of the room at a subdued pace. "I told you that if you do as I say, I would let you see your Evret again. Tonight you begin," she stopped at the fire place and turned to face Levana. She grasped a corded tassel and pulled. "With this portrait."

Above the mantle, curtains parted and a painting was revealed. A painting of Solstice Hayle. A cry of outrage, both shriek and roar, exploded from Levana.

"What is that doing here?!" She cried.

"Teaching you respect for the dead. Before you go to bed, you are to bid Solstice Hayle goodnight. When you rise in the morning you are to greet her. You will do this every day without fail and with sincerity. If you don't, you will stay in your room until you do. Furthermore, when you are insecure or elated with success you are to share it with Solstice. You will share everything with her." The Chatelaine explained.

"With a painting!" Levana growled.

"Yes," the old woman agreed. "An odd requirement I'll grant, but there you have it." She crossed the room to the door. "I will send Madam Renoux in, child. Sleep well, we rise early tomorrow. Oh, and Satel," she drew Levana's irritated attention with the fake name. "If you take your anger out on Madam Renoux or any of my staff, our arrangement is off."

The old woman then left, closing the doors behind her.


	7. Chapter 6

**A Challenge**

Hesti Pyrenee walked through the halls of her chateau, as she had thousands of times before. Except her mind was occupied with the girl in her old rooms. The trust and affection she had spent days earning from the girl would be sorely taxed tonight, but that was part of the plan. Levana needed security and love very much, but not to the expense of reality. Royalty or not, disappointment will follow her where ever she goes, best to learn to weather it. Besides, she would need to come to terms with the dead seamstress before long, otherwise those twisted strands that Hesti sensed in her would become dark indeed.

She spotted Alexandré waiting for her at the fork leading to her study. He was anxious, a natural response to the situation. She passed him without a word and he fell in step at her side. They spent a corridor's length in silence as she examined the chorus of vibrations in his essence, allowing him to speak first. He didn't, not that it mattered, she could guess what he was thinking even without her extra sense.

"Am I insane?!" She spoke, using his usual inflections for such a question. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he frowned deeply, he hated it when she mimicked him. "How can I be so foolish as to let a member of the Lunar Royal family in my home. Don't I know the risks I am taking? What if she attempts to take me?" She turned to look at him as he opened the door to her study for her. "She already has."

It took a moment for him to register what she'd just said. Stunned he asked, "And it worked?!"

"Yes," she concurred as she side stepped a crate and took the seat behind her desk. Her crows were already perched on top her chair. She scratched Memord's head and Pensa cawed in complaint. She switched to the mate. "Quite well in fact, poor girl was out cold for three days."

Her majordomo passed a moment digesting this revelation. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, you told me it takes time to make one of those thought mines of yours _and_ some effort to maintain it. What if she decides to attack you when your essence is open and your guard is down?"

Hesti chuckled. "I suppose that could happen. However, I have spent a great deal of time studying her essence and education. She has great potential, but is a child in skill, they all are in fact. Rather sad how little their knowledge has progressed. She now has an idea of that, so I believe that she won't try such a rash action any time soon."

"And what of the rest of the world?" Alexandré asked as he leaned over her desk, the knuckles resting on top, to look his mistress in the eyes. "When they find out that you brought a Lunar, and a Lunar royal at that, here, what do you think they are going to do? You know that wasn't part of the deal. It might expose your own blood heritage! They'll deport you; you could lose everything!"

"If they deport me after a life of service _and_ _the intelligence_ I have just given them, then I am getting senile." She said, brushing his fears away. "Relax Alex, I have considered all of this."

"Have you?!" He scoffed. "Because to me she sounds like trouble, and mark my words, that is all she'll bring."

"I disagree. No there is a treasure hidden deep within her, as there is in everyone. The adventure is to discover it." Hesti said as she lifted her eyes in amusement. She then lowered her eyes to her steward. "Where is your spirit of adventure?"

"You do not have the strength for these sorts of adventures anymore!" He pleaded. "That trip to Luna was suppose to be your last adventure, or have your fogotten?"

She gave him a knowing smile and brushed off his tack. "You know, she is just a lost. Rather reminds me of you."

He startled back then argued. "There is a great difference between being a wayward youth and a Lunar Princess."

"Yes, but both are driven by a need to discover themselves. You cannot deny that she has much to find outside of her native environment." Hesti returned.

"Let her find herself somewhere else." He replied. "You should send her back to Luna."

"I think would be an interesting challenge." She continued.

"What challenge?" He asked.

"To take a common stone and polish it into a valuable gem." Hesti explained, detailing it with a gesture using her hands.

"The polishing this girl will need will take far too long to be of use." Alex stated. "She is waste of time."

"And it is my time to waste." She declared steadfastly, trying to end the discussion. Alex, however, wasn't finished.

"But why her?!" He asked. "It's bad enough that that den of spies brought you _out_ of retirement for their own sake, especially at your age!"

"She needs my help." Hesti replied, leaning back and folding her hands across her lap.

"So, you don't owe that monster anything." He said.

In a flash, Hesti was on her feet , palms slamming on her desk with a deafening smack. "Don't call her that again, Alex! Understand?" Her voice dangerously calm after the smack of her hands on the wood surface. "She no more a monster, freak, demon, or savage than you or I. And since when did I help anyone simply out of debt?"

He had flinched at her sudden rise and reeled under her quiet rage. Now he hung his head.

"I know you are frightened for me Alex," she observed. "If you were my grandson, I couldn't have asked for one more caring. I can do this, as old as I am Doctor Selewi says I could live for years more as long as I maintain my treatments. I want to spend those years doing something more than staying bound to my family's estate."

"And if she discovers what is buried beneath this mountain?" Hesti considered his words for a moment.

"She won't. At least, not until I deem her ready." She said at length. Understanding glowed in his eyes.

"You want her to replace you." He reasoned in horror.

"Replace me?! Come now Alex, what an absurd notion. You know as well as I that people are too unique to be replaced. No," she clarified. "I want her to succeed me."

"I...see." He replied. He took a moment to think. "Permission to relocate my office to the capital?"

"You still don't believe I can handle her." She smiled mischievously. With a wave of her hand, she granted his request. "A wise proposition. Very well, keep an eye on her from afar and when I need anything out of the ordinary, you can double check that I am _not possessed_. Give my love to Mercé and the children."

He nodded, kissed her extended hand, and turned to leave. "I will. Farewell Ama."

When the doors closed she reflected on the conversation. It had been an unusual one, and not for the arguing. They did that often enough. No, it was that they actually took the effort and time to speak out loud. Their usual arguments didn't required more than a minute to express and conclude. However, there was something to be said for doing things the old-fashioned way with imprecise words. If only for diversion.

Pensa hopped onto her lapped and savored the Chatelaine's touch. Memord flew up to the top of a rafter trying to look indifferent, but she could read his discontent. She would have to mollify him a little later or the lovers would quarrel.

Then she sensed Them, the Echoes. A ripple, so silent, so still, it could have passed unnoticed by any except herself. The crows tensed slightly with her. The months she spent on the moon did nothing to dull her senses, but it would be a rising challenge to help the girl and keep an eye on Them. Especially since Levana's presence, the strength of her gift and horrors of her past, would only give Them power. She would have to maintain the Containment while keeping the girl in the dark until she was ready to know. She should start by taking the new memory stone to the Repository and check the potency of her resonance aegis.

She smiled at the crate that contained the stone. If only Evret and Levana knew what it contained. What would they say, what would they do? A challenge, certainly. Fortunately, after resting so long, she was ready for a challenge.

 **(Please Review!)**


	8. Chapter 7

**False Start**

Madam Renoux was a master at her profession, rarely had Levana ever seen any servant at the palace of Artemisia work more quickly or deftly in preparing her for the night. However, Levana couldn't sleep. She was in a strange place, with a strange room, a strange bed, and had ignored a strange and absurd order. She would never wish a portrait goodnight, at least not one of Evret's dead wife. Besides, it was too early to be in bed, at this time on Luna, she would just be sitting down to dinner. So she tossed and turned restlessly for hours, with her mind occupied by that accursed picture in the room just beyond. At last sleep did find her, gently tugging her into the dark.

A light turned on, a bright light. Pain shot into Levana's eye and she cringed, shielding her face with an arm. Groaning, Levana thrashed about while trying to get into the shadow of her canopy.

"Satel," called that voice, calm, firm, and just gently laced with amusement. "Satel, it is time to rise. The sun will be up in less than a hour."

Finally reaching some shadow, Levana opened her eye and squinted at the Chatelaine. The old woman stood, posture erect and hands clasped in front, waiting. "The sun?" Levana asked, not understanding. The sun..."

"Is rising soon, just as you should be." The old woman interrupted. "Come on now, child, don't keep me waiting." Levana felt a sliding pressure on the sole of her foot and then her foot exploded with a tickling sensation. She squealed with involuntary laughter and bucked upright, eye wide open.

"You had better get up before you laugh so hard, your sides will ache." The Chatelaine warned with a smile. Levana grumbled, but got up anyway. She yawned and stretched. In a moment she found the clothes Madam Renoux laid out the night before, a simple pair of lose pants and shirt, perhaps the most unadorned outfit she had ever put on.

"What time is it?" She asked with a yawn.

"Fourteen minutes before five." Came the response. It took her mind a moment to understand. 4:46 am! Never in her life had she ever woken up so early! She groaned and yawned at the same time.

"Why," she began after smothering another yawn, "did you get me up so early?!"

"Well bittersweet, I fear our first lesson will take some time to complete, especially since you didn't do it last night." The Chatelaine explained. She took Levana's hand and led her into the next room. There she stood, waiting for something. Levana waited too, her foggy mind not connecting to what the old woman intended. Then the Chatelaine motioned with her eyes to the mantle above the fireplace. To the portrait of Solstice. "Say good morning."

"No!" Levana cried. "I will not!"

The old woman sighed. "Then we will not leave." She sat down on a chair and waited. Levana defiantly stood for a while, but then retired to a chair opposite the Chatelaine. They stared at each other, holding each other's gaze in silence. Levana must have nodded off because after resting her eyes for a moment, the sun was up. The old woman, on the other hand, hadn't moved.

There was a knock at the door. "Enter." The Chatelaine called. Madam Renoux entered and curtsied.

"Madam," she said, "yours and mademoiselle's breakfast is ready." In response to the news, Levana's stomach growled loudly. Dinner had been so early last night that she was famished.

"No thank you Sabine," the Chatelaine replied. "I am afraid we will be skipping breakfast today, and lunch at this rate. Best tell Sensei Chef not to trouble himself until evening."

"As you wish Madam." Madam Renoux curtsied again and left. Levana almost called her back, demanding breakfast be brought into her rooms immediately, but the old woman cut her off.

"Satel," she said, "if you want breakfast, you only have one simple act to perform." Levana was silent. "Well my dear?" The Chatelaine asked.

"I will not!" Levana affirmed her position, folding her arms and lifting her chin.

"Then _we_ will go hungry." Responded the old woman. They returned to their staring contest. One the Chatelaine was winning. She could sit calmly without moving hardly a muscle for hours simply looking at Levana. Hunger, thirst, and the desire to relieve oneself didn't seem to affect the old woman. Levana on the other hand suffered. She didn't think she had ever gone this long without food or drink, and aches in her stomach and head were humbling. She relieved herself, paced about the room, and tried any number of activities to occupy her mind, without much success. Still the old woman sat, unfazed.

An idea came to Levana. It chilled her, but through the haze of hunger it seemed less frightening. She stretched forward with her Gift, searching for the Chatelaine's bio-electricity. She found it and gently tried to tug it her way. When she did the same sickening feeling of being in two places at once struck her, she reeled back.

"Alright!" Levana growled, as did her stomach. "I'll do it!" The old woman smiled and gestured to the Portrait. Levana turned to it, scowling. "Hello Solstice." She muttered.

"Hmm," the Chatelaine considered. "I think you can do better." At her raised eyebrow, Levana tried again.

"Hello Solstice." She said louder and more smoothly.

"Better, yes." The old woman observed. "But a touch more amiability, if you please."

"Hello Solstice. How are you? You look wonderful today." Levana spat out sweetly. She turned back to the Chatelaine. The old woman eyed her coolly.

"Yes," she said and stood, "that is enough. Come, it is time for dinner." She walked gracefully out of the room. Levana followed. They passed through the halls and arrived in a modest dining room with a table prepared for two, but could seat eight at least. Two servants were in the dining room waiting to serve. At the Chatelaine's direction, Levana sat to the right of table's head, but the old woman didn't take her seat.

"You may start without me, Satel," the Chatelaine said with a slight, yet noticeable grimace. "I have to visit the water closet." And left.

Dinner was wonderful, a crab soup in a garlic bread bowl made from seaweed, simple yet sensual and filling. Perhaps it was the fact that she hadn't eaten all day, but in those first moments it tasted richer than anything she had ever had. The Chatelaine arrived as she was finishing her soup and bread. The old woman took her seat and started on her soup and bread.

"If you're still hungry you needn't be shy, ask for seconds." The Chatelaine said. Soon another bread bowl filled with soup was placed before Levana. With her hunger largely sedated Levana did not finish this one as quickly, though it was nearly as good as the first. Then their plates were taken and replaced with bowl of raisin-rice putting by the chef himself. Like the rest of the staff, he was an old man, and took great pleasure as the Chatelaine laid honors on his labors.

With dinner finished, the Chatelaine thanked her servants and beckoned for Levana to follow her. The old woman led her through a hall lined with full sized portraits, to the garden outside. They climbed a short tower, little more than a raised platform with railings and comfortable chairs. They sat down.

"Satel," the old woman said, "I know we had an ugly start today, but if you would be so kind as to allow me to end it with a moment of beauty, I would be grateful."

"What do you mean, 'a moment of beauty?'" Levana asked.

"Have you ever seen a sunset?" The old woman asked in answer. Levana snorted.

"Of course I have," she replied back. "Not often, and they are nothing special."

"I suppose you are right," the Chatelaine assented. "However, you have never seen a sunset from within the veil of an atmosphere. Be silent and watch."

Levana had been doing little more than watching that day and didn't care for more. Nevertheless, the scene that unfolded before her drew her attention. Like the sunsets of her home, the shadows all around them lengthened into the horizon as the sun descended and did so infinitely more quickly. She could almost see the shadows growing if she focused and definitely noticed the change if she looked back after a short distraction. And then the colors, such colors and shades she never thought possible beyond a screen or artist's shop. The contrasts of sky and mountains wasn't all, there were the sounds of the wind, chilling her into her coat, but drawing her out with a subtle roar. The chirps of crickets and birds, along with the rustling of the bushes and trees. The smells of earth and plants filled her nostrils.

Then the sky darkened, too quickly for she would have wanted the sight before to stay forever unchanged, as the sun dipped beneath the mountains, she got another surprise. Stars! They started to appear, one after another in the sky. In numbers alone they couldn't compare to the innumerable seen from Luna, but these star unveiled themselves, as if to say to Levana, 'we have watched you in secret and now we show ourselves to you, the worthy.'

"Is it like this every night?" She asked in awe.

"Usually," the Chatelaine said. "There are small matters such as the weather, time of year, and location, but yes."

"I never knew Earthens lived in such beauty." Levana declared.

"Yes," the old woman agreed. "However, few rarely see it."

"What?!" Levana turned to the Chatelaine, trying to make her out in the darkness. "But you said this happens every night. How can they not see this?" She waved her hand at the sky.

The Chatelaine chuckled. "Bittersweet, tell me how was your dinner?"

"What does that have to do with..." Levana started.

"Humor me child, I am an old woman." The Chatelaine pleaded. "Did the meal seem particularly delicious?"

"I suppose." Levana answered.

"Could it be that the reason why the food was so very good is because you hadn't eaten all day?" The Chatelaine asked. Levana gave the point due consideration.

"Yes," she replied, "that could be it."

"So any dish could taste better if you haven't eaten for a time?" The old woman asked.

"I guess." Levana concurred as she began to see where the Chatelaine was taking the conversation.

"Such as it is with most things in life." The Chatelaine explained. "Earthens are born in this beauty, to them it is normal. They are use to it. You, of Luna, come from a world of less variation. Due to your different experience, you will see more clearly than they. Perhaps when they decide to pay attention, they too can appreciate the beauty of a sunset, but wonder will not come as easily to them as it does with you. And it works the other way as well. Many from Earth would find a strange and exotic beauty in the stoic environment of Luna's surface."

She let Levana digest her wisdom. "And," she continued, "it applies to human beauty as well. Even talent and power. It is easy to appreciate what you don't have and harder to appreciate what you do have. Solstice had beauty and talent." At the mention of her dead rival, Levana ground her teeth, if only slightly. "At times she would forget her blessings, though she was better than most. And you, my bittersweet, you have no talent like Solstice or her beauty, but you have something she didn't."

Levana turned to the Chatelaine, an expression on her face bordering eagerness. "What?" She asked.

"A royal birth." The Chatelaine declared.

Excitement and elation filled Levana. She is a princess and Solstice was seamstress, a beautiful nobody. So the old woman understood that, perhaps she would allow her to marry Evret now that...

"You miss understand me, Satel." The Chatelaine continued. "I am not saying that you are better than Solstice, I am saying you are different. You are strong where she was weak, and you are weak where she was strong. Solstice could create beauty for the universe in her art and form, but it is people like you that allow that beauty to fill the universe. That is your beauty, I saw the potential while on Luna. As Solstice tailored apparel, you could tailor humanity. As her medium was cloth and thread, your medium is civilization and statecraft."

The deepness of her words stunned Levana. She found it difficult to visualize the Chatelaine's concept; it was something she never in a thousand years would have considered. An artist of humanity? Her mind turned to the beauty the Solstice possessed, the effortless comeliness.

"Yes, Solstice was a beauty," the old woman agreed, "but remember, your beauty is substantial as well. The face you wear now is lovely and it is the one you should have had, your true face. Besides, you have a talent that surpasses all but a few, one that Solstice could never compete with. Your Glamour. I believe you have guessed that I am more than just your closest living Earthen cousin, that is true. You and I share a blood relation far closer than that distant connection. I have...a form of the Gift myself, and I possess a unique knowledge in its use. I would like to pass this knowledge on to you if you will permit me."

She was silent for a moment. "There is a grave responsibility that comes with this knowledge. Understand that, bittersweet, one that I do not take lightly in the least." She smiled, faint lights from the Chateau allowed Levana to see it. "Although it is exactly the kind of responsibility that you need to become ready for a certain handsome guard."

The hint couldn't have been more clear. Levana quickly declared her desire to learn and willingness to obey the Chatelaine. And, accepting the girl as a disciple, the old woman gave her first order, "Go to bed."

 **Please Review!**


	9. Chapter 8

**A New Position**

Evret Hayle stood at the top of one of Andorra de la Vella's highest buildings. From the suite's windows he could see the city along the river glowing in the night. A sight he'd never could have imagined. A city shaped by a river, not the other way around, and the sky filled with patchy shadows and muted stars.

He still didn't know what to make of his situation. When Levana had forced him into marriage he was terrified and resigned. There was nothing he could do to dissuade her, nothing he could do to run. The only thing that mattered was riding the storm, hoping to protect his sweet Winter.

Winter... She was all he had left of Solstice, his beautiful, incomparable wife. His heart ached as terribly as ever. If not for their daughter, he felt that he would just lay down and never get up. For her wellbeing he would suffer the advances of the princess, even marriage as long as she would be safe.

Then the queen had walked in the chapel with the marriage still incomplete. At her side was the guest of the royal house, a noble of some sort from Earth, a distant cousin they said. He didn't like either of them, they were selfish harpies, glutting off the sufferings of others. However, in that moment he was relieved to see them.

He had only hoped that the queen would be merciful and at first that seemed to be the case. He was sent from the chapel with barely a glance after the queen and the princess argued. He never doubted the outcome of the exchange, Channary was queen and Levana was princess, and the princess lost.

Then, to his astonishment, he was recruited. A lieutenant in the palace guard told him he would be assigned for a special mission. Though he had a suspicion, he never could believe he was being sent to Earth as the guard of the princess. She was being sent to Earth just to get her away from him!

He didn't have time to react. All his possessions were already packed up for him and before he knew it he was strapped in beside his daughter's g-cradle onboard the Chatelaine's ship preparing for takeoff. Only when he boarded the Chatelaine's ship did he even know whom he would be serving with on Earth. Fortunately, his fellow guards were men he got along with well, especially with his old friend, Garrison Clay. In fact, their families were being shipped off with them.

It was all very confusing, and Evret didn't know what to make of it. Was this some kind of perverse prank. He didn't think that the queen, or her _"cousin"_ for that matter, would go to such lengths in the name of entertainment. Then again he was just a lowly guard, what did he know of the elite.

For weeks they were cloistered on ships, stations, now in a hotel on Earth. All without knowing the details of their assignment. Now he and his fellow guards were being summoned to this office. Perhaps now they would get some answers.

"Sir Hayle," the office assistant called, taking him from the view and his thoughts. "The majordomo will see you now." He stepped aside opening the doors for Evret. Evret strode past to meet this 'majordomo.' He felt naked without his guard's uniform, they had been told not to wear them when they arrived on Earth. Instead he wore what he assumed passed as a pain suit on Earth, though it was even more austere than he'd expected.

The doors closed behind him and he couldn't help but scan the room for potential threats and escape routes. He found none worth mentioning. Behind a large and modest desk sat one man showing the signs of middle age. He was dressed in a somewhat better tailored suit and reviewing ledgers on a holographic display. To his right, on a perch was a large black bird of some kind, watching Evret. For a brief moment, Evret entertained the notion that the bird was studying him as he was studying the room. The man behind the desk looked up and with a wave of his hand the display disappeared.

There was an awkward silence. Not knowing what to do, Evret fell back on his training. He stood at attention, making his posture erect and face expressionless. The majordomo's eyes narrowed at the sight.

"At ease Sir Hayle," the man said, as he leaned back, eyes still narrowed. "No need for such ceremony, you're not at the Lunar Court." Evret didn't relax.

"Yes sir." He said evenly. The majordomo stood in response, his face showing irritation.

"Mind you," he growled, "I will have none of your surliness. Sit down." The older man ordered, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk. Evret sat down, but kept his posture.

"You don't trust me," the majordomo observed as he returned to his seat. "Good, the feeling is mutual. I don't trust Lunars as a matter of principle, heard too many stories from reliable sources. I do wonder how well you understand _your_ situation? You and that of your men?"

"No sir." Evret replied.

"Well then, it is like this," the majordomo began. "Your queen has given my Ama the mandate to act as guardian over your princess. That mandate includes a provision for the recruitment and employ of lunar guards, you of course, for an indefinite period of time. This effectually makes you _her_ employees, and by extension, my responsibility. I have instructions to use your companions in their capacity as guards for her highness around my ama's estate and beyond. As for you, I have received special orders."

He leaned forward and, with a wave, brought up a holographic screen. "Ten years of service. Several commendations, no demerits for discipline. Lacking true leadership experience, but ..." Evret realized the man was reading his resume, that is if he ever had one. The man finished. "You're not exactly qualified for the job, but orders are orders."

"Excuse me sir," Evert asked in a moment of silence. "What job?"

"Assistant Security Coordinator," the majordomo answered. "In charge of the other lunar guards. My Ama thinks it is best that your companions are managed by one of their own, and I agree, though why she chose you for this task is something of a puzzle." Evret felt something of a panic rise within him.

The majordomo continued. "The Chatelaine has asked me to keep you out of the princess's sight for the time being. Not difficult to do, you'll need an extensive training course after all."

"I understand sir." Evret said indifferently. His initial fear subsided, he would not be subjected to Levana's affections. However, he didn't know what to make of the training he was going to receive, and a leadership position...he was comfortable as a simple guard, he never wanted anything more. Though as long as he was away from Levana, he could deal with it.

"You and your men will be given residencies in the capital along with your families," the majordomo continued. "It is provided to you as part of your compensation, though there will be quarters at the Chateau available as needed. You will have full access to our training and equipment facilities. As you will be sharing with our own security, you are to avoid exposing your nature as much as possible. If you or one of your men do expose yourselves you are to report it immediately to the Chatelaine or myself and we will deal with it. Our current coordinator will assign your men's work schedules until you are ready. Are these acceptable terms?"

"If I say no?" Evret asked, though he could guess the answer.

"Then you will be sent back to Luna," the majordomo confirmed. He leaned forward again. "The Chatelaine asked me to inform you that such a choice would not be a wise one." Evret didn't know what he meant and while he was curious, the prudent side of him decided to accept.

"Very well," the majordomo sounded disappointed. "I will inform the Chatelaine. You may go." Evret stood and spun to the doors smartly. As he reached them, the majordomo called his attention.

"One more thing," he said. "My Ama has taken an interest in the families of the guards. She would like to invite them to her estate when occasion permits; parties, picnics, that sort of thing. Such social gatherings would be good for them I think. Be sure to pass it along to your men." He waved Evret out and so Evret left. Left with a chill down his spine. Though he may have escaped Levana for a few months, Winter might not.


	10. Chapter 9

**The Morning Instruction**

The next day began as early as the one before. As before Levana didn't want to get up, and as before the Chatelaine drove her out of bed and into her sitting room. Unlike before, Levana didn't resist greeting the portrait of Solstice, instead making a quick attempt to get it over with. She had to do it three times before the Chatelaine was satisfied.

Then she was led out to the gardens. The air was cold and Levana was glad she had taken her coat. Above the stars blazed brightly without the clouds to obscure them. The grounds, in contrast, were full of shadows, each bush and shrub a silent watcher that caused Levana to walk a little closer to the Chatelaine. In the middle of the of the garden was an enclosed gazebo. They entered it and the Chatelaine began her instruction.

"Well bittersweet, we begin your first lesson, what I am about to show you is a meditative exercise call Tai Chi. Are you familiar with it?" The Chatelaine asked.

"Is that some kind of martial kung-fu?" Levana answered, with just a hint of fatigue induced sarcasm. Her teacher smiled.

"Yes, after a fashion, but there will be more to than that. Now I want you to take the first stance." The old woman declared. "Let me show you." She took Levana's arms and positioned them before her. Then she walked behind Levana and use her foot to widen the space between Levana's own feet and position them.

"There, " she said, satisfied. She walked about to face Levana and took the same stance. "I want you to watch me closely as I show you a basic sequence. Then I will help you do it." The old woman began to flow slowly between different stances, breathing steadily and deeply. She looked silly at first, shifting her weight at a seeming snail's pace, but as Levana paid attention she recognized a dancer's grace to the Chatelaine's motions.

The Chatelaine completed the sequence twice before she stopped. "Your turn Satel." The Chatelaine stepped forward, took Levana's hands and began to guide her through the sequence, reminding her to breathe. It was hard, Levana had never been graceful and she stumbled now. However, with the Chatelaine's guiding hands, and nudges from her feet, Levana completed the sequence.

"Good," her mentor said. "Now, we do it again." They went through the sequence again and again, through a distracting sunrise and into the morning. The slow, balancing motions made Levana's feet and legs burn, and her arms tired. Worse, she felt like a fool stumbling through these exercises, and as frustrated as she was, she voiced her concern.

"Of course you look foolish, bittersweet." The Chatelaine confirmed. "So do most when they start. You don't have the dancer's grace, true. That doesn't mean you can't be graceful, but that is not why we do this." Levana opened her mouth to ask her why but hesitated. Her mentor noticed her pause. "Go on, ask your question."

"Why are we doing this?" Levana asked. She huffed when her teacher corrected a misstep.

"Thaumaturges are more skilled at manipulation with their Gift than you, why?" A question! The Chatelaine loved answering a question with another. Couldn't she say anything straight out?

"I don't know," Levana said helplessly. She didn't get where she was supposed to go with it. She took an educated guess. "Training."

"Very good." The Chatelaine complemented. "For a fact they are trained for it. However, let us go deeper, to the truth." They finished the sequence and began again. "Discipline, divided into Focus and Familiarity. Training is merely a conduit to cultivate these traits. With focus comes the ability to concentrate on a chosen goal and avoid distraction. With familiarity comes the ability to intuit circumstances and solve situations without wasting time in thought."

"In this way your thaumaturges are more powerful than you. They are efficient with their abilities, more flexible, doing more than you can with their lesser Gift. It is true that in raw potential they are not your equals, they could never challenge your family directly. However, in all regards beyond, your family are merely figureheads, amateurs with a trump card. Should that advantage be lost your family would be helpless. Your thaumaturges, on the other hand, are more adaptable. Yet even they do not know the full potential the Lunar Gift, techniques I plan to teach you, but first you need _discipline_."

Then her mentor called the exercise to an end.

"Enough bittersweet, it is time for breakfast." The Chatelaine said. It was good thing too, Levana didn't know how much longer she could stand her empty stomach's growling. The temperature had warmed considerably since the sun rose and so Levana removed her coat, throwing it over her shoulder. She squinted at the sun, so strange to actually feel the heat as well as see the light. Her stomach growled again and her thoughts returned to guessing what breakfast would be.

Then she noticed two men that stood at attention on either side of the garden doors. At first she dismissed them as servants, but then she noticed something odd. They were young, not like her, but compared to the other servants they were virtual children. Then as they entered the building, she realized something else, their faces, she had seen them before.

"Who were those men?" Levana asked. The Chatelaine gave a quick look with a raised eyebrow.

"What, don't you recognize your own guards?" The old woman said.

"Guards!" Levana cried. She hadn't seen a guard of the Lunar Court since she left. Besides, those men weren't wearing the guard's uniform.

"Yes, did you think your sister would have sent you to Earth without a proper escort?" The Chatelaine responded in a teasing tone. "You would be right, I had to remind her, and make the selections myself."

"But where have they been?" Levana asked. "I haven't seen them since we left Luna."

"No, they have been busy settling in with their families. Today is the first they were available." The Chatelaine said. A thought occurred to Levana, one that had crossed her mind before but she had ignored it, not wanting hope to disappoint her.

"I know what you are thinking Satel," The Chatelaine said as they enter the dining hall, breakfast already on the table. They sat down, but did not partake. "Yes, I selected Evret to be part of your escort, but you will not see him. You are not ready."

"When?!" Levana almost whined. "When will I be ready?"

"Not soon, if _that_ is your attitude." The old woman cautioned. "Though certainly after you eat your breakfast." Levana grumbled, but took the Chatelaine's hint and began to eat her assorted fruits and small pastries. The Chatelaine also began to eat her portion.

"Satel, " she said, "I have invited the families of your escort to my home a month from this weekend. We will be entertaining them in the garden, a picnic I suppose, what do you think?"

Levana didn't know, she had never been on a picnic before. "I...I guess, but why?"

"They have been taken from everything they've known and brought to a strange world against their will." The Chatelaine explained. "They will be looking for something familiar and something safe, yet diverting, to take their minds off of the changes in their lives. That is what we will provide. You of course understand their position."

She looked at Levana intensely. Levana realized that, in a way, she would understand these subjects of hers. They would look to her, not to Channary. She, Levana, would be their 'queen' here on Earth. With the realization, Levana was excited. She was out of her sister's shadow. She wouldn't be the _invisible girl_ any longer.

"Satel, are you finished with breakfast?" The Chatelaine asked snapping Levana from her thoughts.

"Yes," she answered, she lost much of her appetite when she heard the news.

"Good," the old woman said and rose from her seat. "Then we will continue with your instruction." She hesitated by the doors when Levana stayed seated.

"I thought we were finished." Levana said, a little nervous. The old woman laughed, somewhere between a chuckle and titter.

"Galaxies no, bittersweet." She said. "Those were your _morning_ _exercises_. We still have at least half the day left to us and I am not going to let you waste it. Come along."

 **Please Review!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Mounting Mysteries**

Levana grumbled as she rose to follow the Chatelaine. As they approached their destination, an enclosed structure built after the style of the gazebo, but on a larger and more elongated scale, she could hear some crow scolding. Doors opened and she gazed at a small number of crows, twelve, perched on hanging poles in the middle of what she guessed was an aviary.

"Greetings my friends." The Chatelaine said. The crows gave her a number of low caws, and (did her eyes deceive her?) bows. "I see you have finished with the council meeting. Could I beg your indulgence to speak with the patron and matron alone."

The crows looked at each other, conversed for a moment, then took off. All save two which were perched in the middle of the rest, _The patron and matron?_ Levana thought. There was something in the way the old woman spoke to the crows, some feeling that seemed familiar and alien. What was going on? The Chatelaine stepped forward and to the side to give the crows a better view of her ward.

"Pensa, Memord, allow me to introduce my cousin, Levana Blackburn of Luna, whom I address as Satel." She gestured to Levana. With the extension of her arm, one crow flew to and perched on it. The other, following, took the Chatelaine's shoulder. Both stared closely at Levana, then made noises between them and the old woman. "Yes, she is so. Satel, these are my old friends and confidants Pensa and Memord."

"Friends?" Levana scoffed uneasily. "Your friends are pet birds?"

"Not pets, companions and at times my eyes and ears when I request and as they choose." The old woman explained. "They have agreed to help me, I think it only fair to warn you. So watch your tongue around them, they have sharp ears."

"You are having a couple of birds nurse-maid me?" Levana laughed.

"Quite no, that is what I am for," the old woman laughed in return. "The 'birds' as you put it, will be observing you."

"What kind of strange names are Pensa and Memord anyway?" Levana asked. "Choose them yourself?"

"No, their parents chose those names." The old woman explained.

"Their parents?! As in the crows that hatched them?! Birds?!" Levana cried in disbelief and the Chatelaine nodded. "You talk about these creatures as if they are people."

"It is clear that you do not know much about the Corvus genus, I will have to remedy that later. Right now, however, we have chores to do. Get the broom over there and start sweeping." Levana stood dumbfounded. She had to have heard wrong.

"Excuse me?" She choked. "What did you say?"

"Grab the broom and start sweeping." The old woman repeated. "Quickly now, we should like to finish before lunch."

"But...but I'm a princess!" Levana sputtered. "I am not a servant! You can't actually expect me to do menial labor!"

The Chatelaine raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I can expect it of you, in fact I expect you to enjoy it eventually. As for you being a princess I will say two things on that note. First that you are a princess on Luna, not here. Here you are my ward and will conduct yourself accordingly. The second is that even as a princess, you are not so high as to be above any labor should it be required of you, such as getting the Chateau prepared for our guests. Now bittersweet, SWEEP!" She gestured repeated at the broom to emphasize her command.

Levana frowned, but stomped over to the broom and picked it up. She stood still for a moment, a little dazed at her task. _Sweeping, I can sweep, I have seen servants do a few times. It must be the simplest job in the galaxy._

She took the broom in both hands as she had seen the servants do and swept. Too far, she lost her balance and stumbled. Pain flared in her left hand as it met a rough patch of the hard stone floor. She cried out, cradling her hand and saw three long and bloody scratches on her palm. After moment of the distraction she spotted the old woman approaching her with a hand extended and an amuse smirk on her lips. That ignited her anger out her misery.

"I'm alright, I don't need your help!" Levana all but snarled. The Chatelaine gave her a curt nod and went back to her own labor. Levana got to her feet and picked the broom up and, gripping the broom hard, continued to sweep with furious effort, sending dust everywhere. In ten minutes of effort, she thought she was getting the hang of it but pain in her hand had gotten worse. Not to mention she was winded.

"Satel." Levana stopped dead at the gentle call that seemed to penetrate to her core. Levana turned to face the old woman and felt her gaze locked into the Chatelaine's eyes. The Chatelaine ordered calmly. "Give me your hand."

Levana responded to the order, her left hand let the broom go and offered itself to the old woman. The old woman clasped it between her own hands in a firm grip that made Levana breathe sharply for the flash of pain. Levana then felt a massive surge of energy focus on her hand, _bio-electric energy_.

Then nothing, the pain was gone. Levana felt her gaze released from the Chatelaine's eyes and looked at her hand, the old woman had let it go. It was still scratched and bloody but the bleeding had stopped and she didn't feel any pain. Her expression was stunned as she faced the Chatelaine again. It had been the Lunar Gift, there was no mistaking it this time. However the way old woman had used it..., it was almost unheard of as far as Levana was concerned.

The Chatelaine smiled knowingly. "Yes," she answered Levana unspoken and unrealized questions, "but before you swamp me with questions, we have work to do. Let me show how to handle that broom."

She didn't really show Levana anything new, as it turned out that sweeping was fairly simple, but she did help Levana refine her motions and straighten her back, to avoid back pain later as she said. With that Levana finished sweeping quickly and they scrubbed the floor next. Washing the floor was more difficult, being on her knees so much was uncomfortable and sitting while scrubbing left the rear of her pants soggy wet along with her knees. Fortunately the crows, as the Chatelaine explained, deposited most of their waste in designate locations, which they would not be clean today.

Finished with the aviary long before lunch, Levana and her mentor went to the gardens and helped the gardeners. Raking clippings and pulling weeds from flower beds was like sweeping and scrubbing, simple but not quite easy. By lunchtime Levana's brow prickled with sweat and she didn't like the feeling of dirt under her fingernails. With lunch, good and filling if somewhat plain, pain returned to her hand. Not the sharp stings as before but the dull ache that comes with time. In the days that followed, she realized it healed more quickly than it should have otherwise.

After lunch there was a change. Instead of continuing to work with the Chatelaine, Levana found herself assigned to Madam Renoux, airing out and dusting unused rooms. There was a weird air taking subtle orders from the woman who acted as your lady's maid and so they kept discussion between them at a minimum.

That is until they opened the their third room. It appeared much as the first two, dark, dusty, and chill with a slight musk in the air. Madam Renoux opened the window, letting fresh air and light beam in while Levana pulled white sheets off the pictures on the wall. Two of them were portraits, she had seen others like them but one seemed familiar.

"Is that the Chatelaine?" She asked, mostly to herself. Madam Renoux stopped her cursory dusting and stood by Levana.

"Yes, when she was a young woman." The maid explained about the beautiful portrait in her faint French accent. The Chatelaine was certainly younger here, no more than mid-twenties. She wore a simple gown of gentle white and pastel red with long narrow sleeves and a cape of black. One hand rested on a dark orb streaked with silver, twice the size of her head and placed on a stand, and the other hand touched an ornate medallion, sparkling like diamonds, pinned to her chest. Her hair was done up in a flattering coiffure and crowned with a small tiara. She must have been outside because in the background Levana could see no walls and Luna, a sliver crescent, making a halo on top of her head. It made the modestly attractive woman appear quite...queenly. "That is her coronation portrait I believe."

"Coronation portrait?!" Levana exclaimed in disbelief. "Why would _she_ have a coronation portrait?"

"Well, she is an official chatelaine," Madam Renoux pointed out. "Unless you thought that title was merely a gimmick?"

"I..." Levana stopped to think. When the Chatelaine was first introduced, she had never heard of the title. Some official at court had explained that it was an archaic title generally considered on par with that of a lower ranking noblewoman, but hadn't been used in centuries. Somehow Levana assumed that no one would bother with a coronation for a low ranking lady.

"Not that you wouldn't be far wrong if you did." Madam Renoux continued in Levana's silence. "The title was a gimmick of sorts over a century ago. That is until the Madam's parents...Ah! Here they are!"

Madam Renoux pulled another sheet off the other picture in the room and Levana saw a couple, no older that the Chatelaine in her portrait. The woman appeared much the same as the Chatelaine did, her dress similar in cut and color, hair and tiara. The man, reasonably handsome, wore similar colors too in a suit cut with a hint at a military uniform and the diamond medallion on his chest. At their feet were similar orbs mounted on stands with a hand from each placed upon them. With the other hands they held each other and while they faced out to the observer, their eyes were turned to each other. Like the Chatelaine's portrait they were outside with Luna, enlarged and stylized, as a common halo above their heads. In all it gave them an air of stoic royal grandeur undermined with hint of loving familiarity.

"The Chatelaines Croland and Rea Pyrenee." Madam Renoux explained. "Before them, the family used the title unofficially, advertising you see, as part of their hotel business, THe Chateaus. However, with the end of the last great war, and the services the old monsieur and madam provided to the suffering and weak, the Andorran parliament decided to make the title official. When they died, parliament decided to grant the title to the Madam, as she too participated in the same noble endeavors as her parents, if not to a greater degree."

Levana stood silently listening to this lecture. She compared it to her own haphazard research and found no discrepancies. Not really save one thing, the Lunar Gift. The Chatelaine had used it, more than once, displaying a subtle level of power and skill that rivaled talented thaumaturges.

"Madam Renoux, have you ever noticed anything...unusual about the Chatelaine?" Levana asked. The old maid looked at her carefully as if to judge how much to say.

"No, not really." Madam Renoux answered. "She is a tad eccentric, but then most women of her caliber are, mademoiselle. Enough talk, if don't get back to work then will be here all day."

 **Please Review!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Portraits and Biographies**

Dinnertime arrived and Levana, exhausted from working all day, was almost too tired to eat. She had thought about glamouring Madam Renoux into doing most of the work, but then she thought that the Chatelaine wouldn't have been happy about it. Until she knew more about the old woman, it would be wise not to upset her.

Instead she asked the Chatelaine about the portraits. Why were they stuffed away in a back room, where no one would see them? The answer surprised her. "Oh, those silly things, simply a family joke, I certainly had fun painting mine."

"Wait?! You painted your own coronation portrait?!" Levana asked after realizing what the Chatelaine ha said and marveled that the old woman possessed the skill to create such a life-like painting.

"Of course, there is no rule against that, bittersweet. I dabble in various arts from time to time, portrait painting is only one of many."

A realization dawned on Levana. "You painted the portrait in my room!"

"Yes, I did. Think nothing more of them." But something told Levana that she would have to think a great deal more of them and many other things too.

After dinner, Levana had expect more house work and she gritted her teeth at the thought. It was so humiliating and she was so tired. However, the Chatelaine had another kind of work in mind. She led Levana into the library and on the shelves were books. Lots of books! And shelf that the Chatelaine motioned to held big, heavy, and very old biographies. Pulling one the Chatelaine handed it to Levana.

"I have complied a selection of study material. You will read each of the biographies on this shelf. The two hours between now and bedtime will be yours to spend on this task."

Levana looked at the book in her hands and read it title. **'English Legacy and Prussian Motivations: The Life of Kaiser Wilhelm II.'**

"How is this suppose to help me with Evret?!" She cried losing her patience. She wanted to throw the book down and storm off, but one firm look from the Chatelaine took the edge off her rage.

"Read it and find out." The Chatelaine explained. She walked to the door and before she shut it she said. "Tomorrow during our exercises we will discuss what you have read. Good night bittersweet."

Levana stared at the door for a moment. Her anger threatened to rise again, but through it and her exhaustion, she realized one thing. She loved Evret and would do anything to see him again, and reading, as boring as it might be, was hardly a great trial. Reluctantly she sat on a cushioned chair and began to read. She made it to page four and promptly fell asleep.

 **Review Please!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Queens' Confrontation and Compromise**

The beacon at the edge of the holograph flashed yellow, could mean only one thing.

Hesti sat in her study, just adjacent to the library, speaking with her physician, Dr. Selewi. She felt Levana nod off and smiled with amusement, she would have to have one of the guards carry her to bed. The girl was not used to hard work and study, but that would change soon enough. All things considered she did surprisingly well _. So much potential in that one, well, she would not be wasted if I have anything to say about it._ The Chatelaine thought quickly before focusing back on her physician.

"I have received the samples. Not yours, as I discovered." He said.

"No they are not. Will that be a problem?"

"Are the injections for you?" He asked.

"No, of course not! They are for the donor, Doctor." She replied with a chortle.

"Then no, not really. I will have to make some changes to the genetic algorithms to compensate, but I am confident that with a little research and simulation, it can be done." He said.

"Be sure Doctor. This is quite a sensitive subject, touching on a different set of requirements to my own," she expounded on a list. "Especially infertility. Any mistake could lead to irreparable damage, and I would not be pleased."

"The injections are viable and med-scans can give you the insight you'll need. As for the rest of the procedure, you have to attest to that yourself." He replied. "Although considering your current state of health I'm not worried. It will be more difficult due to the neglect for so long but as I examine the rest of your data I am confident in the outcome. I just need a little more time."

She saw the flashing beacon on the edge of the holograph. The other call was waiting, with a very particular caller.

"Then you shall have it. Now if you can excuse me Doctor, I have another caller." Her physician nodded politely and she closed his connection and brought up the other.

 **"YOU BACKSTABBING, LYING PIECE OF REGOLITH SNAKE PIT!"** The queen of Luna spat in a most un-majestic fashion. Hesti had ignored all communication from the queen's underlings to invoke this exact confrontation. She let the girl cut loose with all sorts of insults and language unbecoming of her rank until she was spent. Then she answered.

"Lovely to hear from you as well, Channary." The Chatelaine said calmly with a disarming smile. "Though I must say I am more than a little disappointed."

The queen sputtered. "Disappointed?!" She screeched. This was not what she expected, remembering the agreeable and accommodating old cousin.

"Yes, I half-expected you to call a week ago." The old woman explained, politely bored and matter-of-fact. "It seems you are even dimmer than most take you for. In fact you were remarkable easy to fool. Take care with that, gullibility is not prudent in a woman of your position."

"How dare you speak to me this way?!" The queen bellowed. "I am the queen!"

"You are _a queen_." The Chatelaine corrected. "And a poor one at that, _child_. As for how, I am more than a third of a million kilometers away, in a nation over which you have no jurisdiction and that despises you. Seems simple enough a conclusion to come without my help. However, I believe we are getting off topic. You meant to call about your sister."

Channary ground her teeth so hard that Hesti could hear it over the transmission. It amused the old woman to see the young queen try and essentially fail calm herself.

"Return my sister to me now!" Channary growled.

"No." Hesti said. Channary's temper was rising again.

"You will regret this, I swear it!" Channary yelled.

"And how do you plan to accomplish that, child?" Hesti allowed her smile to widen. "You plan to expose me, for being your closest earthly relative? That wouldn't work. Or perhaps you plan to expose Levana instead? That could work, but if you did I would have to retaliate by informing Earthen officials about certain weapons programs you are now responsible for. Bio-engineered wolf soldiers and a plague that targets Earthens alone, oh dear! Can you imagine their reaction?

"I imagine a thousand fusion bombs descending on that jewel city of yours, Artemisia, turning diamond to ash. As for any Lunars who survive, you of course would probably be among them, would die slowly of either starvation or asphyxiation. That means a lack of air, if this is too complicated for you to understand, I'm sure your thaumaturges can explain it in simpler words."

Hesti took a breath and allowed her face to take on a sympathetic expression. "Look Channary, let me make a compromise. No one has to know that this wasn't your idea and I do intend to keep my side of the bargain. Allow me a free hand to educate Levana as I see fit and you can take the credit for a sister worthy of her title. Agreed?"

Channary was now confused as well as angry. She clearly wanted to continue this confrontation, to save face if nothing else, but with her uncertainly she knew she was out matched. "I'll do that!"

"One more thing dear," Hesti said. " I hear you are with child, congratulations! It is a shame that you treated Levana so poorly, you not only wasted a good opportunity to practice being a mother, but you may have also lost a perfectly good aunt for your child. Do be sure to care for your offspring well, or I may be back for it."

Hesti cut the link before Channary could respond. It was a good thing she had put those disruption points in Channary's psyche, otherwise she wouldn't have been able say half that much before Channary drowned out the conversation.

Oh, Channary! She was, as a layman would say, 'a piece of work.' Yet Hesti could sense that not even she was completely evil, though she made remarkable effort. No, there was a sliver of...virtue in that moderately mad monarch, but the amount of effort it would to bring it to the surface! No, she had done the right thing, taking Levana from that terrible place. She couldn't help them both, not on Luna, and Levana wasn't as far gone. She would help the younger sister and hope for the best on the elder.

Oh, life! So bittersweet!


	14. Chapter 13

**The Picnic**

The day of picnic arrived. Levana tried, unsuccessfully, to rush through her lessons and chores. Her mentor was relentless, making sure Levana kept at whatever task that gave her trouble until she achieved a level success. Cleaning the old place included. After a month of sweeping, mopping, dusting, toting, folding, sorting, Levana felt like one of the maids in the palace. Her hands worked raw so often that they toughened with calluses.

Then there were her studies. Their discussions on the Kaiser made Levana uncomfortable. She didn't like the parallels the Chatelaine was drawing from the ancient ruler to herself. An emperor with a useless arm, a cripple, trying to compensate for his deformity and so leading his nation to destruction. Her mentor wasn't so harsh as that to the bygone monarch, but Levana could see her point well enough.

Nor she didn't like what the Chatelaine was implying for her and Evret. She loved him and he loved her, she was certain of that, surely. After all didn't he say that he loved her, didn't he call her... Levana flinched away from that train of thought. She focused on today, when the families of her guards came to spend the day. Came to see her, their princess, their...well not queen, but close enough.

She imagined it. They would arrive on the hover pad, lined up in families and she would stand by the entrance of the grounds, graciously accepting their respect and bestowing her good wishes. Then she would lead them into the gardens, where they would dine on the blankets and cushions spread around and covered with fine foods. She would govern conversation and impress the women with her knowledge and wit as they watched the children play.

Maybe Evret would be there, in the shadows, watching.

"Satel!" Levana jumped at the Chatelaine's raised voice. "Goodness child, I have been trying to get your attention for the last minute! Now remember, though you are their princess on Luna, they are our guests here. As hostesses, we will be respectful and courteous. Not to mention forgiving of offense, understand?"

"Oh, yes, I understand." Levana said in a hurry. The Chatelaine gave her a questioning look but said nothing more. They walked to the hover pad, and Levana took in her outfit. A sleeveless top and short skirt of soft salmon with low heeled slippers. The old woman wore a more conservative, blue outfit and both had wide hats. The outfits were very plain to Artemisia standards, but Levana felt so free out of those robes she had been wearing all month.

They stood just outside the gate to the hover pad and watch two hover buses approach and land. They divulged their contents, women and children, dressed in comfortable and decent looking outfits for outside extrusions. The four mothers were herding a brood of screaming and laughing brats some ten strong. The children ranged from infants to eight years old as the Chatelaine had informed Levana that morning.

It took a moment for the mothers to line up their broods to greet the hostesses of the Chateau. Each greeted the Chatelaine and Levana and introduced their children. The Chatelaine made a point to learn each child's name win a smile from their shy faces. Levana was not quite as patient with this process but did her best to follow her mentor's example.

Then she saw the last mother in line, a woman she recognized. The plain face, strawberry-blond haired girl would forever be burned in her memory, along with that terrible night that sent her to Earth. Now here she was with her brat son, laughing at some joke the Chatelaine whispered into his ear, and pushing a baby carriage... The Chatelaine pulled back the little carriage curtains.

"And who is this adorable child?!" The old woman asked in a higher voice that bordered on a squeal.

"It is Sir Evret Hayle's daughter, my lady." Mrs. Garrison replied, with a note of hesitancy, and perhaps fear, in her voice. She certainly gave Levana a wary look. "Winter."

"Winter," the old woman tasted the name as if she had never heard it before. "A darling name for darling baby. Oh, come to me nena bebé!"

She gently slid her hands under the baby's body and lifted her out of the carriage. Evret's daughter began to cry in the strange woman's arms, but the Chatelaine cooed and rocked the girl gently and she calmed down. The Chatelaine turned so Levana could see the babe. "Oh Satel, isn't she a most enchanting child?"

Levana took in a breath the same as taking in the sight of Evret's baby. She hadn't seen him in so long that she began to worry she was forgetting what he looked like. She hungrily sought his features in the face of the little girl. _Dark skin and deeply curled hair were definitely Evret's though the eyes, caramel colored irises with hints of slate grey around the pupils were less so_ , Levana thought.

Her mind then turned back to a moment in the hospital, just after Winter was born. His wife dead, Evret had just come to see his new baby daughter through glass. The memory made her shudder for a moment, for in that glass she had seen herself, her real self. Then they had talked, about the baby, how much she looked like him. Then he had said that he hoped, knew she would have more of her mother in her when she got older. Her mother...Solstice! Levana frown for a moment then shook off the memory.

"Let me hold her." Levana petitioned. Her mentor gently handed the baby to Levana's waiting arms, instructing her on how best to hold her. Winter gave Levana one look and her face soured. She wailed and squirmed trying to get out of Levana's grasp. Levana tried the same calming techniques she had seen her mentor use but to no avail. Winter just wouldn't stop fussing. In barely disguised disgust, Levana handed her over to the old woman and immediately the baby calmed. Levana ground her teeth in chagrin and was certain she heard the other mothers snicker behind her back.

The Chatelaine replaced the babe in her carriage and led the party to the gardens. Levana walked beside her, keeping her head high despite her embarrassment. On the way her mentor made musing remarks and comments about her estate, Levana assumed she was sowing seeds for conversation later. The women made return remarks with little enthusiasm at first, but as they finally reached the designated spot for the picnic they were beginning to smile.

Levana tried a few herself, but the tension in the terse responses made it clear that their guests had no interest in a similar familiarity with her. The Chatelaine must have sensed her pupil's distress because as she was indicating who should sit where, she stole a moment to whisper "patience" in Levana's ear.

Once everyone was situated on prepared blankets and cushions, the food was brought out by members of the staff and a few hired helpers. After they laid the lunch on low tables they left the party to their own devices. The Chatelaine called up the older children and asked they to "be big helpers and serve their mothers, brothers, and sisters." They giggled and jumped at the chance to display their maturity. There were several dropped plates sandwiches and spilled cups of punch before sufficient food actually reached their families. The accidents first caused shame then laughter among the children as the Chatelaine led the women in jests.

The lunch wasn't all playfulness. There were discussions about family life and child raising. When one woman voiced concern of a lack of extended peers for her son and two daughters, others agreed that their circle was too small. The Chatelaine mentioned she patronized a local orphanage and school and assured the mothers that their children would not want for friends and socializing.

Levana marveled at her mentor's ability to assuage the women's concerns over the incompatibility between lunar and earthen children. She was jealous too. Her mentor always seemed to know just what to say to these women and now they held onto her every word. They looked to her, not Levana, for guiding wisdom.

At first Levana was certain the old woman was using glamour in some unseen way, but so far she could sense almost nothing beyond the children's uncontrolled outbursts. Levana herself was forbidden from using her glamour of Solstice and usual and so she wore her own, unscarred face with the appropriate cosmetics. Not that it was much of a loss, Evret wasn't here, nor were his fellow guards, and such beauty was less effective on the wives and children anyway.

Glamour aside she was still the princess. She should inspire some admiration in this little corner of her kingdom. Yet her every attempt to join and lead the conversation only led to awkward pauses and subtle, puzzled looks to the chief hostess, the Chatelaine _. It's unfair, I am the one they should paying attention to!_ With that thought she brooded and stopped trying to participate, closing into herself.

With the end of the main course came dessert. Chocolate mousse, brought in by the staff who promptly carried off the remnants of lunch. The Chatelaine, in her usual patronizing tone when talking to the children, informed the party that the chocolate mousse was not free. It would have to be purchased by one kiss on the cheek of either hostess. The children lined up quickly to receive their treat and give a kiss. Since Levana's self-imposed silence had become obvious, they all went to the Chatelaine for the exchange.

However one little boy, Jacin Clay, had cleverly decided to earn a second treat ahead of time by kissing the sullen princess. With a half eaten bowl of mousse in his unsteady hands, he place a mousse covered kiss on the princess cheek. The feeling of those sticky lips on her face made Levana jerk away and her knee knocked little Jacin's bowl out of his hands and onto her lap.

With a screech, Levana leapt to her feet, looking and her soiled skirt in horror. She switched her gaze to the little boy, now realizing belatedly that kissing the princess was a bad idea, tried to escape out of arms reach. He made it, but it did him little good. Levana lashed out with her gift and the boy crumpled in a burst of agony.

His cries of pain were shortly curtained, though, as another cut Levana off with her gift. The Chatelaine, displaying an equal amount of power and a far greater level of control, deftly encased the child in a protective shield, deflecting Levana's attack. She further broke Levana's ire trance with an astonished and incensed word.

"Levana!"

Levana looked at her mentor, then at the little boy being scooped up by his mother and carried away. She felt every eye watching her with fear, as well as dripping with rage and disapproval. She realized she had stepped over a line, so she bolted. She ran as fast as she could, not caring where she would end up.


	15. Chapter 14

**A Lost Art**

Levana cried for... she didn't know for how long. Did it matter? Her tears alternated between anger and anguish. Anger for the boy, his clumsiness making her lose her temper in front of everyone. Anguish for what the Chatelaine would think. Would she forbid Levana from seeing Evret forever? She pounded her fist on the rock she laid on until her hand hurt.

Her crying slowed as she overcame the initial flood of raw emotion. With it came that dull aching in her sides and head. Without knowing it she fell into a meditative trance like the Chatelaine had been teaching her. She rested there, just listening to her breathing, focused and deliberate, calming her. _It is easier, letting everything go, because it was already lost. Wasn't it?_

As if in answer to her mental question, someone sat down beside her. Levana flinched away and up, expecting to see the Chatelaine, expecting to hear the fateful decision, _I am sending you home, you will never see Evret again._

It wasn't the Chatelaine. It was her housekeeper, Senora Oliver. She carried a small bowl of chocolate mousse and set it down beside Levana. "The joven senor Jacin says he's sorry that he ruined your dress. He wants you to have his second bowl."

Levana looked at the bowl incredulously. The older woman sensed her doubt. "Take it querida, the boy really is sorry. It will make you feel better, I promise."

Levana took the bowl and slowly ate the mousse, savoring each spoonful. It did make her feel better, rich and sweet, Sensei Chef's talented hands out did themselves. It wasn't enough though, she still felt rotten. As her eye teased more tears the older woman put her arm around Levana and pull her close.

"I know querida. It was a hard day for you, just take your time. We'll go see the Chatelaine when you're ready." Levana didn't want to see the Chatelaine, her fears about being sent back to Luna hadn't faded. She sought to prolong the inevitable, to keep her dreams alive for a few hours longer. Night came, that brilliant sunset she had enjoyed before was as beautiful as before, except now it looked like a mourning funeral pyre. To complete it flew a crow out of the sun as it slipped beneath the horizon.

It landed in front of Levana and Senora Oliver, and cawed. "Oh dear!" The housekeeper said as she rose to her feet. "We better get going, thank you Memord."

Levana rose too, feeling dizzy after sitting in sorrow for so long. She and the housekeeper walked the half kilometer to the Chateau arm in arm. To Levana's surprise, the crow hopped onto her shoulder and nuzzled her ear with his beak. At first Levana leaned away from the bird and was tempted to shove him off. Then the housekeeper tittered.

"He likes you. He's trying to cheer you up." She said. Levana reached for him with her hand and he leaned into it. She stroked the crow, surprised how calming it was, and then asked a question of the past to get her mind off the immediate future.

"Senora Oliver, what was the Chatelaine like when she was young?"

"Why would you ask me that, querida?" The older woman replied.

"Well you have served the Chatelaine for a long time haven't you?" Levana asked. The older woman chuckled in response.

"I haven't worked for your tia for nearly that long, Satel. Nor am I nearly that old!" Levana gave her a confused look that did not escape the housekeeper. "Tia, it means aunt. Oh I know she is your cousin technically, but she is so much your senior and in my culture cousins of the previous generation are usually called aunts and uncles by the following generation. Anyway, the Chatelaine is almost old enough to be my grandmother, she is one-hundred and two. The only one of us that is nearly that age is old Butcho."

Levana's eye bulged. A hundred and two! The Chatelaine was ancient, but she didn't seem so. She moved with a mature grace, steady and strong, not a hobble one would expect of such age. Levana voiced her thoughts.

"It is true." The housekeeper agreed. "That is because the Chatelaine has been using anti-aging techinques for decades. I suppose, since she is the last of the Pyrenee family, she is trying to prolong her life as much as possible because she has no one to follow in her footsteps when she is gone."

"No one?" Levana asked. "She never had children?" The thought was almost impossible the way she charmed all the children in the afternoon.

"No," Senora Oliver said, "she never even married. Now that is a real shame, I think she would have made a wonderful wife and mother. They say her mother certainly was just so. She has our children and grand children, Senor Oliver's and mine, to spoil and those of the other servants, so her talents are not completely wasted. But I have always wondered. That is why I am so happy you have come!"

"Me?!" Cried Levana.

"Yes, you are her closest relative and young. You are the closest thing she has to a daughter or granddaughter. You can connect with her in a way no one else can. You cannot know how much your presence has brightened the Ama's life. How she was slowly fading before you came, how gradually the rooms were closing in the house, and how steadily the world at large was becoming a distant, forgotten place."

Levana watched the woman beside her explode into an excitable rant in awe. The weeks here had made it clear to her how the staff respected, even loved, their mistress. Now she realized how much they feared, not _of her_ , but _for her._ It was...eerie.

"And now rooms that haven't seen the light of day in a decade are now open again. Children play in the gardens, and...listen!" She pulled on Levana's arm with delight to stop her. They were almost to the Chateau now, silhouetted against the horizon and stars. Levana followed the housekeeper's order and almost strained her ears to hear before she pick it up.

An ethereal, nearly haunting sound traveled from an upper story window. Levana recognized the melody, a common one for children on Luna, meant to excite and amuse. "I have waited to hear the Ama play _that_ for ten years!"

"What is it?" Levana asked, intrigued in the music despite herself.

"A glass armonica." The housekeeper answered.

"A what?!" Levana had no idea what she was talking about. The old housekeeper smiled.

"You'll just have to see it for yourself, querida. Come along." She pulled Levana into the Chateau and up the stairs. When they entered the doorway, Levana took a moment to process what she saw. The Chatelaine sat, facing them, before a curious instrument. It appeared to be made of a series of glass bowls stacked horizontally in gradually increasing size. The stack was rotating and the Chatelaine was gracefully stoking the rims of the bowls. The effect was the heavenly melody she had heard from outside.

The tune changed in tone to a silly cord and the end came with the Chatelaine making a equally silly face at a bundle by her left. Levana heard a baby giggle. Then she realized that the bundle was Winter, Evret's daughter, in a small crib. The chatelaine began another tune and looked up at the newcomers.

"Ah, Memord, you found her. Thank you, Pensa is waiting for you." The crow on Levana's shoulder cawed and flew off, out the window. "Thank you for brining her Marlene, I will speak with Satel alone."

The Housekeeper gave a short curtsy and took Levana's bowl. "Good luck with your tia, querida."

"Come in Satel." The Chatelaine's voices was firm with authority. Levana obeyed, walking lightly and her head cast down. The Chatelaine continued to play the strange device. How it made music Levana couldn't tell, there were no strings or air holes, or percussion surfaces on which to pound. Just a gentle ringing as the old woman's hands glided from one rim to the next.

"It is the glass," the Chatelaine answered Levana's unspoken questions without looking up. "It is made of crystal. When one rubs the rims when wet, it will cause the glass to vibrate, thus making the different tones." The Chatelaine scooted to one side, making space for Levana. "Would you like to try?"

Levana took her place, still anxious but relieved to not discuss the afternoon just yet. The Chatelaine stopped playing and took one of Levana's hands, guiding it to a rim of a bowl in the middle. The glass was cool to the touch and slick with what Levana realized was water. Immediately a musical tone sounded. Then the old woman guided Levana's other fingers to the surrounding bowls and more tone sounded with the first. It was the first time Levana had ever made anything remotely like music. She smiled.

"Do you know what it is called?" The Chatelaine asked. Levana searched her memory, the housekeeper, Senora Oliver, had told what it was.

"A, uh..." Levana forced herself to remember. "A glass armonica?"

"Very good. I am pleased you had the frame of mind to pay attention to Senora Oliver. You know she used to pester me about this old contraption? Hopefully you never have to see that side of the woman, she can really drive one to distraction." The Chatelaine said. "To be fair, I am glad to finally have listened. I think little Winter is too, aren't you nevada petita?" She made a face and the baby giggled.

"It has a beautiful sound. Why did you stop playing it?" Levana asked, her courage rising.

"Oh, when you live as I do, some things just lose their importance with time." The Chatelaine replied. _Live as you do, you mean long and alone?_ Levana thought. The Chatelaine went on. "Do you know the history of this instrument?"

"No." Levana answered.

"Well, it was invented centuries ago by a man named Benjamin Franklin. Once he heard a concert of single tune melodies played on upright wine glasses similar to these." She waved at the bowls while directing Levana's hand to another series of notes. "He loved the sound, and being a curious and inventive man by nature, he thought he could find a more practical way to play them. Here is the result. Only one of his _lesser_ known contributions to mankind. A fascinating man, brilliant and self-made. A lot like you in fact. With the world against him and a hard older brother, he used his wit and hard work to make his way. An example to us all, if an imperfect one. Since you are nearly done with your studies of Kaiser Wilhelm, you will read about him next."

Levana relaxed a little. The life of the Kaiser was interesting, but ultimately disheartening. The life of this Benjamin Franklin did sound a bit more uplifting. And if the Chatelaine was going to have read Benjamin Franklin's biography perhaps this meant she wasn't going to send Levana away.

"Now we should address an issue." Levana's heart sank at the Chatelaine's words. Her hands stopped guiding Levana's as she turned away. Turning back Levana could see that she now held Winter. She handed Levana the baby and Levana scrambled to take her. Almost immediately the dark cherubic face began to sour. Disgusted with the child and herself, Levana handed the fussy baby back to the Chatelaine. The baby became quite and cheerful just as quickly.

"She hates me." Levana declared dejectedly. Her mood had gone from disheartened to heartbroken. If Evret's daughter hated her, could he really love her?

"No, I don't think so." Her mentor answered pensively. She placed Winter back into the crib. "I have a thought, here put this on." She handed Levana a flexible, flesh colored mask cut in half so only the left side remained. At her mentor's insistence, Levana put it on. It must have some kind of adhesive coating on the inside, for it didn't fall off when she pulled her hands away.

"Now what?" Levana asked impatiently.

"Now," the Chatelaine said as she reached back into the crib for the baby. "you will remove your glamour."

Levana burst to her feet and lurched away from the Chatelaine and the bundle in her arms. "What?! How can you ask that?! You've seen...me!" She raged. "You..., do you think that this pathetic mask...that just because it covers my...that it could make me look even remotely normal?!"

The Chatelaine weathered Levana's outburst quietly rocking Winter. She never broke eye contact. "No, but I doubt little Winter would care. Babies perception are not completely developed at her age and even if they were, she wouldn't remember anything from this early in her life. The mask merely smoothes the rough edges away. Come and take the child."

She offered Winter to Levana, and Levana took the baby a second time. Winter's face didn't sour or pout as before. Winter looked at Levana cautiously, she didn't smile or laugh, but she might as well have. Levana cooed and rocked, she was rewarded with a slight smile. Levana, in returned smiled at the Chatelaine.

"She...likes me!" Levana exclaimed so loud that Winter squawked in surprise and began to cry. Levana returned to cooing and rocking to calm her. The Chatelaine rose to join them and at her touch, the baby's dwindling fuss ceased.

"Yes, I thought as much." The Chatelaine mused. "It wasn't you Satel, it was your glamour. Your gift is potent, very potent. That which makes it so beautiful that it can be painful to look at, and children are particularly sensitive to that intensity. I could sense the babe's discomfort."

Levana consider the last remark. "You _sensed_ her discomfort? You've used that wording before. What do you mean _sensed?_ "

"I am afraid I can't simply tell you." The Chatelaine explained. "I must show you. Put Winter back in her crib and sit down over there." She pointed at a pair of chairs to one side of the room. Levana was resistant to let the angelic infant go after finally connecting, but her curiosity motivated her. She did as the Chatelaine asked and put Winter in the crib to sit down.

The Chatelaine moved the other seat opposite Levana's and sat down herself. She pulled the seat so close their knees touched. Then she leaned forward with her left hand extended to Levana's right cheek. Levana pulled back just a little.

"Bittersweet, if you please, trust me." She beseeched. Levana gave the hand a wary look, but leaned forward to meet it. The hand's touch was warm and kind, the touch Levana imagined a mother would have.

Suddenly, that feeling of being in two places, being two people, at once gripped her and she panicked. A force held her back, a strong force and she desperately fought, but to no avail. _"Calm yourself."_ She thought herself say, then thought she didn't say, someone else had said it. _"All will be clear in a moment."_

She focused then, calming herself, forcing her thoughts to order. Then there was darkness and silence. She couldn't see or hear anything. She called out but her voice sounded wrong, too regular and clear. Despite her confusion she called out again. _"Hello! Is anyone there?! Can anyone here me?!"_

 _"I hear you."_ Came a voice, clear as if it came from her own mind. Levana turned, or thought she did, searching for the source of the voice.

 _"I am here, bittersweet."_ A veil light appeared, and the Chatelaine stepped into it. Levana rushed to her, trying to find some comfort in this abyss of darkness with the one person in sight.

 _"What's going on?!"_ She cried fearfully but just in control of herself. _"Where are we?"_

 _"We are where we were a moment ago."_ The Chatelaine said. _"In the music room of my Chateau."_ Levana shook her head. That couldn't be right, even if the lights went out and the skies were overcast, there wouldn't be this kind of darkness. Where did this light come from anyway? She looked for a source, above, below, and in any other direction she could think of, but there was none. The light was just...there. Yet where else could they be?

 _"I don't understand."_ She confessed.

 _"No, I didn't expect you to understand."_ Her mentor laughed. _"This is so far out of your experience that I knew you couldn't, bittersweet. This,"_ she gestured to the darkness around them with a grand wave, _"is a mental construct I have created for your benefit to introduce you to the thoughtscape."_

 _"Thoughtscape..."_ Levana tested the word. _"What could she mean? Oh!"_ She realized her thoughts were sounding as if she spoke them out loud.

 _"Yes, you're beginning to understand."_ Her mentor said. _"Go ahead, speculate."_

 _"You said a 'mental construct' and 'thoughtscape',"_ she reasoned. " _And my thoughts...we heard them as if I spoke them. Are we...reading each other's minds?"_ The idea was preposterous, no one had ever used the Lunar Gift to read another's mind, and not for a lack of trying. It wasn't possible, the Gift just didn't work that way. Then Levana realized that these very thoughts were being expressed as loudly as if she intended to speak them.

The Chatelaine raised her eyebrows and Levana felt smothered amusement. _"An excellent analysis, quite close, but not exact. It is true that no one you know of has been able to use their Gift to read another's mind. However you must understand that in the intrigues and machinations of Luna, many ideas are suppressed and lost. This was one of them. Sit down I will explain."_

A portion of the light focused behind them and shifted into the shape of a bench. Levana cautiously sat down, unnerving to be sitting on what looked to be nothing but light. Since it was solid she expected it to be unyielding and uncomfortable, but it was as soft as a plush chair. She took an amazed moment to explore this strange upholstery. The Chatelaine sat down beside her and gave at the moment she need to satisfy her curiosity.

 _"It is called Psychic Resonance."_ Her mentor explained and with a wave of her hand more light condensed into a floating, rotating bowl, as seeming insubstantial as the bench, yet when the Chatelaine touched its edge, it rang. Levana then realized it was a glass bowl from the armonica _. "As I said before, crystal glass vibrates, and not just glass. Everything in the universe vibrates, or in other words has a resonance, that include one's bio-electricity. When our bio-electrical resonance align, we become attuned to one another's thoughts and feelings. It is rather similar to how communication devices, like D-comm. chips, work. What this is," she gestured to their surroundings, "is our collective consciousness becoming one on the same...plain of thought. Thoughtscape."_

 _"How is this done?"_ Levana asked.

 _"By listening."_ The Chatelaine explained. _"When Lunars use their gift, how do they use it? By making another see what they want them to see, or hear, or feel. It is a kind of projective telepathy. They are blasting their thoughts much the same as an Earthen would shout ideas in the ear of another. This technique requires one, not to shout, but to listen. Allow their Gift to bring in sensations and not blast them out, allow themselves to be manipulated. When you sense another's bio-electricity, you listen to how it moves, vibrates, and try to attune yourself to their energy."_

Levana nodded, then thought of something else. _"But if this is a collective consciousness, then why can I think differently from you?"_

 _"That is because we are simply aligned, exchanging thoughts the same as ships exchange hails. We are not a hive of bees. Oh, I grant one could use this technique much the same way Lunars use their gift, and dominate another. One with a stronger, better trained Gift could do that, mind you, but they would have to attune themselves first. Also there are many more levels of intimacy that can be reached in the thoughtscape that could merge two minds into one for a time, but that is well beyond what you are capable of dealing with as of this moment, so we will not be addressing them now. As for this, we meet as equals, freely sharing our surface thoughts. I merely took the lead to create an environment you could understand, and, to be honest, I am helping you align yourself to me with my own Gift."_

She let Levana absorb all she said. It seemed an eternity passed and a million questions pooped in and out of her head, obvious to her now that the Chatelaine could hear them well enough. She focused to ask the most important question of them all.

 _"Will You teach me?"_ Levana asked , trying best to contain herself.

 _"Do you want to learn?"_ The Chatelaine asked solemnly.

 _"Yes!"_ She squealed in excitement. It was a bizarre skill, and it unnerved her, but it was a skill no one else knew. _"Oh, I am so relieved! I thought that after what happened today, at the picnic, you would send me away for sure!"_

 _"Ah, yes."_ Now Levana sensed a feeling of sadness and determination. _"In regards to that incident..."_ The ringing bowl dissolved into a ball of light and shot off into the distance, disappearing. A moment later the distant light reappeared. It grew larger and larger and Levana felt herself being pulled toward it. Like a being tied with invisible ropes or being sucked by a nonexistent wind, silent and invisible , her feet and legs lurched up and she lost her seat. She gripped the bench, trying to steady herself as her body was pulled away and stretched out. She looked toward the Chatelaine, expecting her to be in a similar plight. Instead she saw the old woman sitting leisurely, watching Levana with a resigned expression.

 _"What's going on?!"_ Levana cried desperately _. "Help me, please!"_

 _"I will not."_ The Chatelaine replied sadly. _"You must face this yourself."_

The solid and soft pew dissolved in her hands. She screamed as the light jerked her back and she flew into its waiting embrace.


End file.
